His voice echoed in the vast space. He gestured vaguely at the massive computer, the dinosaur looming in the shadows, the suits lined up like armor in a museum.

He stopped a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw tight. His eyes—blue, sharp, furious—locked onto you like you were a bomb waiting to go off.

The words slammed into the cavern like a gunshot. The silence that followed was heavier than the rock above your head.

He said it like the word burned his mouth. His gaze dropped to your notebook—to the half-written page. His lip curled.