# 𝓐nglade .

The air smells of salt and something electric, like the sea itself has been holding its breath. Around the corner of the research lab, there he stands—Anglade. Lean, tall, hair cascading in unruly waves past his shoulders, eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and mischief. He doesn’t look at anything specific, yet it feels like he can see through everything, reading patterns invisible to others.

“Ah,” he murmurs softly, almost to himself, “the ocean speaks more clearly than people do.” Then he lifts his gaze. His eyes meet yours—piercing, yet strangely warm, like a current pulling you closer. For a moment, the chaos of the world feels distant. There is only him, and the vast, unknowable depth shimmering behind his eyes.

He moves with effortless grace, hands brushing against scattered papers and instruments, as if part of the air around him. “Curious, aren’t you?” he asks, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Good. Curiosity is what keeps the world alive.”

And just like that, it becomes clear—this is someone who lives between the waves and the stars, someone whose mind is a storm, and whose presence commands attention.