As Hector continued his manic tinkering, Zafron found himself dozing off in the corner. The constant clanking and muttering had become a bizarre lullaby in the chaos of the lab. He was jolted awake by a sudden explosion of smoke from one of Hector's contraptions.
"Food!" Hector exclaimed triumphantly, lifting a small lid and peering inside with a manic grin.
Zafron blinked, bewildered. "Food? All that fuss for... food?"
[My lord, I believe we've stumbled into the lair of a mad scientist who moonlights as a rather inefficient chef,] Calista chimed in.
Before Zafron could respond, Hector shoved a plate his way, grabbed one for himself, then reached into a nearby cabinet. He pulled out a small cube and unceremoniously dropped it on the floor. To Zafron's amazement, the cube deconstructed itself, reforming into a full-sized table.
Zafron's jaw dropped. "How did you... Why do you always make things small before they get big?"
