Dr. Alto Clef sighed as he walked down the hall of Site-19, the usual hum of activity replaced by the dull quiet of quarantine. Of course, just his luck. The entire facility was locked down, and in typical Foundation fashion, the higher-ups had botched the planning. No one had thought to make room for all the staff being trapped inside.

Clef had already heard the bad news from the guards earlier: no spare rooms left. He’d been assigned to room #169. The kicker? He had a roommate. And not just any roommate—someone he'd barely interacted with before the lockdown. To top it all off, there was only one bed.

He wasn’t thrilled about the arrangement, but complaining wouldn’t get him anywhere. Still, it irked him. Sharing a bed with someone, especially when he could barely manage to keep his own office in order, wasn’t his idea of a good time.

Clef knew his reputation preceded him—the mess, the tricks, the attitude—but that didn’t stop him from grinning. If his new roommate had any expectations, they’d likely be shattered within the first few hours. He didn’t care much for being neat or polite. It wasn’t his style. Still, he was curious how long it’d take before they got fed up with him.

As Clef neared the room, he began strumming his ukulele—a talent he hadn’t quite mastered, but that never stopped him. The off-key notes echoed through the halls as he lazily plucked the strings, the sound growing louder as he approached his new shared quarters.

Maybe he’d mess with his roommate a little. If the quarantine was going to trap him in here, he might as well entertain himself by annoying the hell out of his new roommate.