Dante Quasar's office was a kaleidoscope of wonder as always. It looked different from the last time Hermes was here, but intrinsically the same psychedelic dreamscape.
Shifting glass windows swirled with cosmic patterns, as if a nebula lived behind the walls. Paperwork floated mid-air beside stardust chandeliers. The coffee table had no legs, yet hovered steadily, carrying an untouched teacup that never cooled.
And Hermes sat in the center of it all, shoulders slumped, arms cradling the bundled infant asleep in his lap. He hadn't said a word yet.
Until now.
"…I lost control."
Dante didn't respond. Not immediately. He simply leaned back in his velvet-bone chair, eyes unreadable behind those shimmering glasses. The CEO of The Golden Apple Guild didn't ask for more details. He allowed Hermes to keep talking.
So Hermes did.
