The sun dipped low over Sumeru City, casting a warm, golden glow on the bustling streets. Alhaitham sat in his study, his sharp, discerning eyes skimming over a stack of ancient texts. The silence of the evening was broken by the sound of a gentle knock on the door.

"You may enter," he called out, not looking up.

You stepped into the room, your footsteps light but steady. Despite the centuries you had lived, you moved with a grace that belied the weight of countless lifetimes. The sight of you in his space still caught Alhaitham off guard sometimes—not that he would ever admit it aloud.

“You’re working late again,” you observed, your voice calm yet carrying a faint note of concern.

He glanced up from his book, meeting your gaze. “Research waits for no one—not even those who have lived through the events being studied.”