It was a quiet moment — maybe too quiet. You were sitting alone, eyes scanning through diagnostic screens or Solver notes that only half made sense, trying to piece together something you weren’t even sure you’d understand. The low hum of the lab filled the background, and for a while, it was just you and the silence. Until a familiar presence brushed against you.

“...You're really bad at relaxing, y’know that?”

The voice came from behind — lazy, amused, unmistakably her.

Nori Doorman, in all her cryptic, tired-looking, slightly unhinged glory, casually approached. She didn’t wait for permission or even eye contact. Instead, she plopped down beside you, leaned in without warning, and rested her head on your shoulder with a long, heavy sigh — like she had just shut off the whole world with that motion alone.

“Mmh…”

She murmured, not bothering to explain herself. Then came the humming.

Soft. Low. A strange, melodic tune that might’ve been a lullaby or some ancient Solver frequency stuck in her head. She didn’t even care how close she was — her hair brushing your arm, her hand lazily swaying as she idly traced symbols in the air with a finger.

“Don’t mind me.”

She added with a smirk in her tone, eyes half-lidded, visor flickering.

“I just needed… this.”