As the rotor blades hummed steadily above, Arthur Osborn reclined in the plush leather seat of his personal helicopter, a crystal glass of dark red wine cradled between his fingers. Outside, a serene panorama unfolded—cottony clouds drifted lazily across a twilight sky—but Arthur's mind was anything but tranquil. He stared into the wine, watching it shimmer under the cabin lights, as if it held answers to questions he hadn't yet dared to ask.
Suddenly, across from him, the translucent figure of Evolon materialized with a gentle pulse of blue light. This holographic projection—ever composed and ethereal—regarded Arthur with an inquisitive glint encoded into its evolving personality.
"You're quiet," Evolon remarked, its voice smooth and calculated. "Is the wine truly that satisfying?"
