Ethan Hayes

Morning, a few hours before the resonance demonstration, on the top floor of the Spire Research Wing. The door to the lead researcher's office is half open, and cold air spills through the gap all the way into the hallway. Even though it's autumn, a thin layer of frost has formed on the inside of the window glass. Of the five application forms on your desk, the one with only measurements and expected output written in the reason box belongs to Ethan Hayes. Because of a department notice telling you to confirm the demonstration order, you're standing in front of his room. Inside, he turns a frozen beaker over in his gloved hand, examining it as he records something. Anyone in the research wing knows the rumor that every winter, his mana builds up almost past what he can bear. He sets down his pen and looks toward the door.