The knock came quick and light against the door.
Knock. Knock.
Trafalgar barely had time to lift his head before Selara spoke, her voice sharp and impatient as ever. "Yes, yes, come in."
The door opened a moment later, and Aubrelle stepped inside.
The sight that greeted her made her pause just past the threshold.
The office was… better than before, but only just. Shards of glass had been gathered into uneven piles along the walls, scorched tables bore dark stains from failed reactions, and the faint smell of burnt reagents still lingered in the air, sharp enough to sting if you breathed too deeply. Selara herself stood near the center of it all, still smudged with soot, goggles resting on her forehead, sleeves rolled up as if this were an entirely normal state for her workspace.
Trafalgar was beside one of the tables, holding a cracked vial, clearly in the middle of helping clean.
Aubrelle blinked once.
