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Avera followed him through the door into a cramped corridor, and he bolted the door behind them. The short hall presented one small doorway off to their right, its door standing open, and the plain white walls continued onward only to dead end within a few feet of the opening.

"In my office, if you would, please," he graciously requested, gesturing towards the lonely door frame.

The two of them entered into an office, the small and simple room housing only a few bookshelves, a desk with two chairs, and the chaotic organization typical of his rooms or offices. Papers and notes were strewn about the desk beside mess of pens and inkwells. About a dozen books lay open to various pages scattered atop surfaces about the room.

Avera paused to take in the room and all its charm, and he watched her as she did. "I am sorry for the mess," he told her.

"No. It's alright. How... cluttered is the mind of a genius," she remarked pleasantly.

"I suppose...