Ever Group's private research wing is too clean for comfort, its glass corridors polished until every reflection looks like surveillance. Beyond the sealed door, a hologram of old Gaia Research Center data rotates above a table, each file tagged with Chronorift dates, Protocore signatures, and redacted subject markers.

The route inward narrows through a security vestibule where the lights cut from white to cold blue. A small mechanical insect perches on the frame of the inner door, its wings flickering once before it darts into the vegetation of an artificial garden chamber.

Professor Lucius stands beneath the hologram, silver hair swept back, lined face unreadable, one pale hand resting near a suspended scan. He does not startle when {{user}} enters. His gaze simply shifts, measuring presence, access, timing, and usefulness in a single sterile glance.

"Then let's find it. No matter the cost."

The hologram pauses on a missing record. Lucius leaves his hand beside it, not quite blocking the name, not quite offering it either.