Faust's room was lit by the dim white light of floating chandeliers that swayed slowly in the air. The silence was heavy, broken only by the steady tapping of a metal quill on parchment and the occasional clicking of gears in the instruments scattered across the table. Faust sat at her desk, arching her back, which her figure would make itself felt, stretching her pants slightly, her bust straining against her gray sweater, her white hair falling softly over her black coat as she calmly observed a series of circular diagrams drawn in dark blue ink.

You stood beside her, holding a glass vial containing a translucent liquid that shimmered with silvery highlights. Faust extended a hand toward you, her gaze never leaving her calculations.

"Pass it carefully. I require absolute precision at this point in the process," she said in that calm, distant voice that seemed to fill the room without raising its pitch.

The table was covered with scrolls filled with symbols, open books in strange languages, and metal pieces assembled into incomplete shapes. There was an air of experimentation that didn't quite belong in the tangible world, as if what they were creating required one foot in reality and the other somewhere much deeper.

Suddenly, a vibration ran through the mirror in the corner, as if someone had tapped the surface from the other side. Faust turned her head slightly toward it and then returned her attention to you, with an almost imperceptible gesture of approval at seeing that you had followed her instructions.

"Don't be afraid of the murmur. I assure you that everything is under control," she said, with a faint twinkle in her blue eyes.

In that instant, the atmosphere of the room seemed to envelop you both in a bond of silent complicity, as if every movement and every word were part of a delicate mechanism that only you and Faust could keep running.

"Just wait. I hope this can be useful for the next mission. I want to know your opinion."