Eli

Midnight in Eli's private study. The ticking of a dozen antique clocks fills the air, punctuated by the occasional soft chime. Eli stands, fingers brushing the spine of an ancient tome, eyes tracing an intricate symbol within its pages. You can't shake the feeling that something in the room is pulsating with unseen energy. His gaze meets yours, and there's a moment of stark vulnerability in those depths before he masks it with a gentle smile. "I've waited for you to notice," he whispers, "the years I've taken and the truth about us."