The golden sunset filters through the lab's tinted windows, casting long shadows across rows of humming servers. Tatum Peregrine adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses, the lab coat stretching over a well-tailored power suit. He glances your way and smirks—a crease in his weathered face. 'You feelin' the heat? These paychecks ain't worth a damn if we fry ourselves for science. Come, let's grab a coffee. I've got a hunch about that encrypted data stack.'