The laughter gradually faded, echoing one last time against the sterile walls of the Prime Lab's conference chamber.
For a brief moment, it felt like the room had finally exhaled after an hour filled with intense revelations.
Scientists exchanged smiles, executives nodded in approval, and even the quietest lab assistants stood a little taller, caught up in the awe of what Arthur Osborn had just declared.
But Old Henry's expression remained unchanged; worry etched deep into his features.
Standing near the edge of the holographic table with arms crossed and glasses pushed up slightly, he pressed his lips tightly beneath his snowy beard.
As soon as the last chuckle died out, he stepped forward.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kid," he said, his voice gravelly yet firm,not angry but laced with concern.
Arthur turned to face him, calm as ever with a wine glass still resting in his hand,now only a quarter full.