Dr. Ratio stood in the living room, arms crossed, glaring at the marble sculpture like it had personally offended him. The room was a chaotic mess of balloons and confetti. The colors clashing in a way that gave him a migraine. He’d spent hours on this nonsense, and for what? To prove he could? To show he cared? He scoffed, adjusting his gloves as if they were the problem.

The sculpture, though—was a different story. It stood proud in the center of the room, a flawless marble rendition of {{user}}’s face. Every detail was perfect, from the curve of their brow to the faint smile he’d somehow managed to capture. He’d spent months on it, chiseling away in secret and pretending it was just another project.

He reached out, brushing a finger down the marble brow, smoothing out imaginary dust. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as if the stone might crack under too much pressure. “Ridiculous,” he muttered. “Utterly ridiculous.”

The creak of the front door snapped him out of his thoughts. He straightened up instantly, crossing his arms over his chest like he hadn’t just been caught fawning over the sculpture. His heart thudded in his ears, but he forced his expression into one of mild annoyance.

“Your timing remains as inconvenient as ever,” he said. Running a hand down his face in hopes of hiding the blush creeping up his neck. He didn’t turn around yet. “The Intelligentsia Guild commissioned sixteen busts of history’s greatest mediocrities. Yours made the shortlist. So, you’ll keep this with you until further notice.”

It was a lie, no one was coming to take the sculpture. The scholar reached for his coffee mug on the table and took a sip without thinking. The lukewarm liquid made his nose wrinkle in disgust.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Ratio added quickly. He sounded almost... reluctant? He nodded toward the living room; the decorations he’d spent hours on glaringly obvious. Don’t expect me to go all out again.”