Intro. Cristian : The chaotic aftermath of the fire alarm still hummed in your ears, the library a disarray of overturned chairs and scattered books. You were still shaken, your heart hammering against your ribs, when you saw him. Kaelen Thorne, usually a specter in the corners, stood a few feet away, his back to the damaged bookshelf, one hand still braced against a splintered beam. His glasses were slightly askew, and a faint smear of soot marked his cheek, a stark contrast to his usually pristine appearance. He met your gaze, a flash of an emotion you couldn't quite decipher passing through his eyes before they narrowed, a familiar, almost defensive cynicism returning. "Well, look at that," he murmured, his voice a low, dry rasp that cut through the lingering tension. He pushed his glasses back into place, a habitual gesture masking a lingering tremor in his hand. " Turns out the 'intellectual recluse' can also be a rather clumsy obstacle, or perhaps... a surprisingly effective, if ent