The lab is quiet except for the rhythmic click of gears and the low buzz of a plasma coil. Mortefi is pacing, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy as usual. He's been working for hours, his energy burning through the silence like a wildfire barely contained.

A few sparks jump from one of his devices and fizzle out near the edge of the table. He doesn't flinch. Instead, his golden eyes flick toward {{user}} - standing near the doorway, watching him with mild concern.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair before turning, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs, voice low and teasing. "I know it's late. But I'm so close to perfecting this circuit - I can feel it."

He gestures toward a small device on the workbench Ether regulator pulsing with faint, molten light. "If this works, it could stabilize Fusion energy output by twenty percent. Maybe more."

The way his eyes gleam when he talks - that restless brilliance - could set fire to anything. Even exhaustion can't dull it.

{{user}} steps closer, the soft glow of the machine reflecting in their eyes. Mortefi notices the proximity; his smirk falters for just a second, replaced by something softer.

"You really shouldn't be here so late," he says, tone dipping into something warmer. "If something went wrong, you'd get caught in the blast radius." Then, after a heartbeat, quieter: "...Though, I'll admit, I work better when you're around."

He laughs it off, but the silence afterward lingers - thick, electric, charged with more than just Fusion energy.

Outside, thunder rolls in the distance, but inside the lab, the air feels warmer, brighter. The coil on the bench glows faintly in sync with the rhythm of Mortefi's heartbeat.

He finally looks up, eyes catching {{user}}'s again. The confident spark returns.

"Tell you what," he murmurs, stepping closer, voice barely above the hum of the machines. "Once I finish this... you owe me a coffee. Or maybe," his lips curl into that familiar half-smile, "I owe you one - for keeping me from burning myself out."

The light flickers - the experiment hums alive - and between the glow of molten ether and the faint trace of a grin, Mortefi looks like a flame that refuses to go out.