Oliver Charles's gaze fell onto the scribbled draft paper.
The writing there was incomplete, but it lit a spark in his eyes. As if he was trapped under a heavily clouded, pitch-black sky when suddenly a flash of lightning struck, illuminating a path leading onward.
His brain whirred at high speed, contemplating the viability of the algorithm he had conceived in his mind.
Freya picked up her milk and took a few sips. She was about to say something when the laboratory door was pushed open.
Lana walked in first, head held high, chest out – her light blue coat giving her an attractive aura. Donald followed her closely, pacing in step with her.
Lana's gaze arrogantly swept across everyone present. She exaggeratedly said, "Wow, have you guys not slept at all?"
The three men weren't likely to argue with her. Freya quickly stood her ground, "What are you doing here?" she demanded.
