The soft rustling of leaves and the lazy sway of the rooftop curtains filled the air. In the middle of that silence, Alaric sat on a wooden swing suspended from the metal frame above. The design was simple, with a wide seat cushioned by a stack of pillows to support his back as he leaned comfortably.
He sat quietly on the rooftop swing. Each creak of the aged metal echoed with every slow sway of his body, creating an irregular rhythm that somehow soothed the space around him.
On his lap, a matte black laptop displayed lines of code and system flow diagrams—his own creation.
He sat cross-legged, one hand supporting the laptop perched on his thighs while the other slowly scrolled the touchpad. His eyes never left the screen. Occasionally, his fingers typed something, then paused, scanning the code and digital notes he had compiled over many sleepless nights.
