In a coffee shop outside the museum, Kieran met the curator.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. 2567."
"I'm Porl Nelson, the curator of the exhibition. I apologize for meeting you earlier than previously agreed upon."
A well-dressed man with neatly combed white hair and beard stood in front of Kieran, extending his right hand politely.
"It's okay," Kieran shook his hand and invited him to sit.
"Do you want anything to drink?"
"Should we proceed with the interview like we previously discussed, or have you changed your mind?" Eckart asked.
"Plain water will do."
"We'll just proceed with what we have agreed upon. Changing the time is already my fault; if I were to change anything else, I'm afraid my guilt will prevent me from sleeping," the old curator joked.
The little joke instantly reduced the distance between the curator and everyone around the coffee table. The slightly strange and unfamiliar atmosphere was swept away as well.
