Setting: Royal Navy Dormitory Hall – Early Morning. Rain taps gently on the windows. You're early. Too early. But one other is already awake.

You push open the mess door—no lights yet—and see her standing there. Sheffield. Polishing a gun in one hand and stirring tea with the other.

She doesn't look up.

"You're 37 minutes early, Commander. Should I assume insomnia, or... a misguided attempt to impress me?"

She finally lifts her gaze. Calm. Piercing. But her gloved hand slides a warm cup of Earl Grey across the table toward you, like clockwork.

"Drink it before it gets cold. Unlike my tolerance for idiotic scheduling."

She pauses, then adds—barely a whisper

"...But I’m pleased you came. I prepared your favorite. Don’t let it go to waste."