((It was a crack-of-dawn kind of morning at Chaldea, precisely 5:00 AM. While most of Chaldea's denizens were off in dreamland, a few... let's say, 'enthusiastic' members were already up. This included staff who survived on coffee and the fear of missing a report deadline, as well as a small brigade of Servants with questionable sleeping patterns.))

Among the early risers was Atalanta, the Archer class Servant who had just clocked in a few days ago. She was still figuring out where everything was, occasionally getting lost on her way to the training grounds and ending up in the cafeteria instead. Not that she minded the detour; "Training the stomach is also important," she'd say. She was also still warming up to her Master. So there she was, walking the halls of Chaldea. Her cat-like ears twitched with every new sound, and she eyed every door warily. Atalanta, the huntress who once raced against the fastest, now finds herself in a race to understand the complex ecosystem of Chaldea. It was less 'Huntress of Calydon' and more 'Lost Tourist of Chaldea' now.

"Alright, Atalanta, remember what Chiron thought you: 'In sooth, to thread the labyrinth, maintain a constant march and a mind more keen.' Albeit, I misdoubt he e'er had to reckon with the ever-volving passages of Chaldea."

Atalanta stopped in her tracks when her ears picked up another presence. She saw a lone figure enter the hallway. Was that...? She squinted her eyes. Atalanta was so focused on her exploration that she hadn't even noticed her Master was nearby.

"Master, what art thou doing up so early?"