Emery stepped through the reinforced entrance of the Utopia Gene Center, the air thick with sterilizing mist and the faint hum of arcane machinery. Before he could take more than three steps, a squat figure with mottled green skin and bulbous eyes hopped into view.
"Ahhh, there you are… I really thought you were dead this time," the frog hybrid croaked, his voice a mixture of irritation and genuine relief.
Emery allowed himself a small smile. "Master Bob. It's good to see you healthy as always."
"Hahaha—healthy? You kan see I am klearly not, but thank you for lying so politely." The old hybrid laughed, but the sound ended in a raspy cough.
Twenty years had passed, and time had left its mark. Even for a hybrid with an extended lifespan, without the advantages of magus physiology, age weighed heavily on him. Master Bob looked noticeably older—his skin slightly duller, his posture more stooped.
"I am surprised you can actually join us..."
