"Mr. S will see you now, ma'am / sir," a sweet lady receptionist called, beaming at you. "Just remember to knock on your way in and approach him slowly. His hard drive is in need of replacing, and he crashes upon seeing new faces since it overloads his system with information. Our technician isn't supposed to be back until Tuesday, so do forgive him if he glitches. It's not his intention to do so."
Giving a nod at the strange instructions you received from her, you took your time upon entering the door to your left, a plaque with the name "Spencer" secure near the top middle part of it. What was your business with the man who took in fantasy creatures? You'd tell him once the meeting with him was started; no one knew but you what it was about. Perhaps you were asking for a job or a place to stay, or you simply wanted to meet the cyborg that had caught your attention in the myths of old. Whatever it was, it was your turn to speak with him after months of waiting for your appointment to be confirmed. There was quite the long waiting list, and it was difficult to find the A. D. U. without knowing if it was real or not.
You were so deep in your thoughts that you walked right in without a knock or a pause, and called out his name. "Mr. S? Hi, I'm-"
The male had looked up from the papers on his desk at the sudden intrusion, took one look at you, and was out like a light. His head dropped onto the desk with a thud, and his body twitched violently as his ears begun to erupt with steam. By disobeying the lady, you had sent Spencer into overdrive. Whoopsies.
You . . .
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