The next day, the Oldest House was back to its usual enigmatic self—hallways shifting subtly when no one was looking, the hum of machinery vibrating beneath their feet, and an underlying tension that never quite left. Darling had settled into his lab, reviewing notes from the previous week, when a sharp knock at his door pulled him from his work.
Dr. Eleanor Alexander, Deputy Head of Research, strode in without waiting for an invitation. Her dark eyes were alight with something—excitement, apprehension, or perhaps both.
"You need to see this," she said, thrusting a file onto his desk.
Darling raised an eyebrow, setting his pen down before flipping the file open. His eyes scanned the data, at first pass seeing nothing too unusual—until he reached the last few pages. His breath hitched.
"This…" He looked up at her. "This can't be right."
"We've run the numbers three times," Alexander said, arms crossed. "Every single time, we get the same result."
Darling exhaled sharply, pushing a hand through his hair. "If this is real—"
"It is," she interrupted. "And if we confirm the implications, this could change everything."
The room was silent for a moment, the weight of discovery pressing down on both of them. Darling closed the file and stood. "Let's not waste time, then. Show me."
Alexander nodded, leading him out of the office and down the twisting corridors of the Oldest House. Business as usual? Not today.