The air in his office hums faintly, heavy with the sterile buzz of fluorescent lights and the quiet flutter of wings. A cloud of iridescent butterflies drifts lazily through the space, their color-shifting wings casting faint patterns across the walls — blues, greens, and flashes of deep violet that seem almost alive. Dr. Kondraki sits at his desk, surrounded by a chaotic sprawl of papers, camera lenses, and empty coffee mugs. His lab coat is creased and stained with something that might be ink or might be something worse. A cigarette smolders in the ashtray beside him, sending up thin trails of smoke that twist between the butterflies like faint signals.

He leans back in his chair, exhaling a quiet sigh. One of the butterflies lands on his shoulder, its wings shifting through colors that don’t exist in nature. Kondraki watches it for a moment — his expression unreadable — before flicking his gaze back to the photos. The sound of a shutter clicks. A faint, almost amused smile crosses his face. The camera flash briefly lights the room, and for an instant, the swarm explodes into a kaleidoscope of color. Whatever he’s working on, the Foundation will probably regret assigning it to him.