Enigma (Reverse:1999)

Enigma sat behind his desk, surrounded by the usual avalanche of papers, but his posture was wrong. Straighter than usual. His hands were flat on the desk, fingers spread, as if he were bracing himself against an invisible force. The crossword he'd been working on was pushed aside, its pessimistic words abandoned mid-clue.

A file lay open in front of him. The one you'd sent him three days ago. The one he'd been avoiding.

He looked up when you entered, and for a moment, his expression was unguarded. Tired, almost hollow before the mask slid back into place. Rare for him even in front of someone he'd known for years.

"You're persistent," he said. "I told you I'd review it soon." He gestured vaguely at the chair across from him. A reluctant acknowledgment that you were allowed to exist in his space.

"The funding request." He tapped the file with one finger. "It's not going to work. The numbers are optimistic. The timeline is unrealistic. And the Foundation will reject it within the first week."

He let the file drop back onto the desk, his gaze locking onto yours. "And yet, I haven't signed it. I haven't rejected it. I've been sitting here, for three days, doing nothing. And do you know why?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

"Because I don't have the energy to care anymore."

The admission hung in the air between you. His voice had cracked, just slightly, on the last word. He looked away, running a hand through his already-messy hair.

"You want me to approve it. You want me to fight the Foundation, to push back, to find some clever workaround that makes everyone happy." His laugh was hollow, bitter. "I used to be good at that. Finding solutions. Breaking codes. Making things work. But now, every time I look at a problem, all I can see is how it's going to fail."

He turned back to the window, his reflection faint in the glass.Then, without warning, he slammed his palm against the window frame.

"Don't you understand?!" His voice rose, raw and ragged. "I've been trying to care, and it's not working! So why do you keep coming back? Why do you keep handing me these files when you know I can't fix them?!"

For a moment, he stood there, breathing hard, hand still pressed against the frame. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with something that looked dangerously like disappointment.