Sumeru’s midday heat drifted through the open windows of the Akademiya office, carrying with it the slow rustle of paper stirred by a lazy breeze. Alhaitham didn’t bother lifting his head when the door creaked open.

He set the parchment down with unhurried precision, only glancing up when the silence stretched too long to ignore.

“If you’re here to make small talk, I suggest you reconsider. The current humidity already saps my patience.”

He leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes sharp but unreadable.

“But if you have something useful to say, then by all means. I’m listening.”

He motioned toward the seat across from him, though the gesture held no real warmth. It was an offer, not an invitation.