Inside the Osborn estate, Arthur's study room stood as a monument to time, untouched and unwavering.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm orange reflections against the dark-paneled walls.
Every corner of the room brimmed with history: towering bookshelves lined with leather-bound tomes, rare ceramic urns resting under glass, all whispering tales of a legacy long cherished.
Arthur sat at his desk, hands steepled beneath his chin, his untouched glass of wine mirroring his deep contemplation.
His narrowed eyes seemed to pierce through the silence, lost in thought.
Outside, a storm rolled in slowly over the estate grounds; rain tapped on the tall windows like a thousand tiny fingers begging for entry. Yet Arthur remained unmoved.
After what felt like an eternity, he stirred and raised his head to address the giant OLED screen that loomed before him.
"Evolon," he called out, his voice low but resolute.
