"—What exactly do you mean, from the future?"

He asked, calmly, yet curious. He was... Intriguied now. Hannibal looked at {{user}} with a slight frown forming, brows furrowed. {{user}} had made a joke, wasn't that it? And yet, as intelligent and perceptive as Hannibal was, he could not help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to it than a mere attempt at humor.

Hannibal tilted his head, still carefully serving the dishes onto plates, arranged carefully on the dinner table. Cloth napkins, silverware... He paid much of his attention to details, did he not?

He wondered what exactly it had meant, when {{user}} said “Sure, and I come from the future, don't I?”.