The insistent chirping of his phone dragged Levi from the comfortable embrace of sleep the next morning. He reached out a languid arm and answered.

"Yes?" He listened for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Holden," Levi said, his voice now edged with a familiar impatience, "Inform the Minister that any further postponement of our meeting is no longer... acceptable. How many months has this tedious charade dragged on now? Six, if my memory serves correctly?

"Truly," Levi continued, a hint of incredulity lacing his tone, "the Minister's demands are akin to expecting us to commit mass murder with a single glass of water. Inform him, in no uncertain terms, to cease his incessant pressuring. Clinical trials exist for a reason, a rather crucial one, I might add. What does he envision? Releasing the world's most potent opioid without years of rigorous testing? And must I remind you, Holden, that the harvest season for Aether Bloom is concluded? We require a minimum of three years of comprehensive trials, necessitating at least three years of cultivation. Do I genuinely need to reiterate such basic scientific protocols?"

"Wow..." I murmured, half to myself, the pieces clicking into place. He had mentioned something similar months ago. So this same conflict was still ongoing.

"This again, Holden? Still this same ridiculous demand? The answer remains a firm and unequivocal no. Inform the Minister to cease his pathetic whimpering and sniveling simply because his avaricious mouth waters at the prospect of our future profits. Even after the successful completion of clinical trials, there are numerous other essential protocols and groundwork that must be meticulously addressed. You know your job, Holden. Execute it."

I chuckled softly. Look at my lion, momentarily embracing the virtues of ethical conduct.

"Blackmail him, then," Levi's tone shifted again. "Truly, have you still not internalized my fundamental principles? Lie, cheat, manipulate, Holden. Those are your foundational tools. If all else fails, if your repertoire of persuasive coercion proves insufficient... then, and only then, do you contact me."

Well... scratch that momentary illusion of ethics.

But... was Levi entirely wrong in this stance? I mean, wasn't he trying to ensure a potentially dangerous drug was stabilized before unleashing it? And judging by Levi's firm stance on the matter, adhering to rigorous protocols and years of trials... could it be possible that Levi is actually, dare I even think it, doing something... good?

What a fucking perplexing moral and ethical quagmire this was.

"Indeed," Levi mused. "Our Academia continues to generate a respectable profit margin, but frankly, my interest in mere financial gain has waned. Perhaps," he hummed, "we should consider converting it into a public school. It would serve the dual purpose of contributing meaningfully to society and, more practically, funnel a steady stream of bright, eager minds directly into my research laboratory." He paused, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "What conflict?" His brows furrowed in genuine confusion. "So, Holden, if I am understanding you correctly, you require my personal intervention at the laboratory to quell some sort of... friction... between the chemists who are alumni of our own Academia and... the others? Am I truly hearing that grown adults, presumably intelligent scientists, were engaged in physical altercations within a research facility, resulting in damage to valuable property?" His voice rose slightly with incredulity.

Ah, that's right. Levi had mentioned, with a characteristic air of understated pride, that his family was responsible for establishing the very first medical school in this country, some centuries ago. And now he's contemplating turning his own Academia into a public institution?

Levi remained silent for a long moment, the implications of Holden's report seemingly settling within him. Finally, he spoke, his tone firm but lacking the explosive anger I might have expected. "I am not about to unleash hell upon my chemists. Tell them to cease their petty squabbling and get back to their work. And while you're at it, remind the Minister to refrain from his rather unseemly anticipatory drooling." He snapped his phone shut. Then, with a weary groan, he placed his palm against his face and rubbed it roughly.

"Good morning, Levi?" I ventured, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Ah..." he responded, his voice still carrying a trace of the earlier exasperation.

I lifted the breakfast tray from the service table – a selection of his muffins, my usual eggs and creamy mashed potatoes, a steaming mug of black coffee for me, and a rich, dark hot chocolate for him.

"Good morning, Raphael," he murmured, his voice still carrying a note of bewildered exasperation from his earlier phone call. "Holden actually expects me to... intervene... to stop grown adults from bickering and, apparently, engaging in physical altercations... in the laboratory. In the lab, Raphael. They are fighting in the lab."

"Well..." I chuckled, shaking my head. "Never a truly dull morning with you, is it? But you do seem genuinely perplexed by this. Why are they fighting, though?"

Levi sighed, finally reaching for a muffin. "Different alumni groups, Raphael. Graduates from our own Academia versus those from other institutions. There's always a certain level of friction, a bit of territoriality. You know how it is – pride, ego, the usual human failings. These little incidents happen every year, apparently. But... to be asked, as the owner of a pharmaceutical empire, to personally intervene and stop grown adults from... physically fighting? My mind simply drew a complete blank. The sheer absurdity of the request..." He trailed off, still sounding slightly dazed. "Thank you for the breakfast," he added, taking a bite of the muffin.

"So..." I mused, trying to wrap my head around the image. "It's like a turf war... but with scientists?"

"Precisely!" Levi exclaimed, taking a frustrated sip of his hot chocolate. "It is baffling to contemplate. Grown adults, individuals deemed competent enough to conduct cutting-edge research within my laboratories... resorting to throwing glassware at one another. Not even a break room brawl. What if they had caused actual damage? Potentially detonated the most well-equipped research facility in the entire country? What if my invaluable staff had inadvertently dissolved themselves in a vat of some highly corrosive acid? The sheer irresponsibility, the utter lack of foresight... it's truly unbelievable to comprehend."

I chuckled, reaching for my coffee. "You know, for someone who regularly employs 'lie, cheat, manipulate' as foundational principles in, shall we say, other aspects of your life, you seem remarkably surprised by a bit of irrational human behavior amongst your staff."

"It isn't about their personal well-being, though, the thought of them dissolving in acid is admittedly... inconvenient. What I care about is the place. The lab, Raphael. The lab. The potential for catastrophic errors, for the jeopardizing of years of invaluable work... it's simply unacceptable."

"But to be perfectly honest, the image of highly educated individuals resorting to hurling beakers and screaming at each other within the laboratory is... darkly funny."

Levi's lips twitched upwards. "Then, by your logic, we should be gleeful that their dispute didn't escalate to, say, shoving one another into the industrial furnace or perhaps locking someone in the cryogenic room for a prolonged 'cooling off' period, wouldn't you say?"

Damn. He was right. Our shared sense of humor was definitely veering into increasingly disturbing territory. A series of darkly amused chuckles punctuated the rest of our breakfast.

"All this talk of empires and laboratories has reminded me..." Levi said, setting down his empty cup. "You've never actually seen the headquarters of my primary company, have you?"

"No," I replied, a touch of curiosity piqued. "Why do you ask?"

"Would you care to visit?" he proposed, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Don't worry, I have no intention of personally reprimanding beaker-wielding chemists. However, I do need to make a long-overdue trip to retrieve the quarterly profits and address some decisions. As you know, it has been approximately three months since my last visit to the main offices."

Aw... my formidable lion wants to offer me a peek into his den? Well, frankly, this luxurious hotel suite is starting to feel rather... predictably.

"Levi, of course I'd like to visit," I replied, a genuine spark of interest igniting within me. "Also," I added, a playful glint in my eye, "considering I now technically own every single petal of Aether Bloom, my curiosity is definitely piqued. I'm also rather intrigued to see what you're like in boss mode. Are we talking tyrannical shadow casting fear throughout the cubicles, or a more... benevolent overlord?"

"Hm..." Levi mused, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "I would certainly characterize my general management style as... agreeable. Aside from a select few individuals who operate within my immediate orbit, the majority of my employees likely perceive me as a pleasant, consistently smiling, yet ultimately decisive leader. Furthermore," he continued, a touch of pride entering his voice, "their compensation packages are significantly above industry standard. And as you yourself have witnessed, my ethical standards regarding laboratory practices and the meticulous handling of the drug synthesis process are... rigid, bordering on the obsessive. You might even find yourself begrudgingly admiring my commitment to ethical sensibilities in that particular domain, Raphael."

Pleasant and smiling? That's... a picture I'm struggling to fully conjure.

"So, Levi..." I said, arching an eyebrow. "Your cunning plan to fully corrupt me involves seducing my moral compass with the dazzling facade of a charming and ethically sound CEO?"

"Yes, my astute Raphael," Levi replied, a smile finally gracing his features. "Since our dynamic often involves a more... unfiltered version of myself – especially now, in my clean and sober state – you have yet to truly witness my 'Saint' persona in its full glory. You've experienced the 'Duke,' the theatrical villain, the orchestrator of delightful chaos. But 'Saint'? That is a carefully cultivated performance reserved for the wider world. My dearest, stepping into my corporate headquarters will be akin to entering an entirely different realm. Prepare for a level of polished affability and decisive benevolence that might just make your head spin."

I've seen the Duke in all his scheming glory. Unfiltered Levi, raw and intense. Clean and sober Levi, still navigating his edges. But Saint? That's a completely new character.

"I am in, then, Levi," I declared, a sense of anticipation bubbling within me. "Let us venture forth and witness this 'Saint' persona in its natural habitat – your office."

"Excellent," he replied, his genuine smile widening slightly. "However, there is a crucial prerequisite. I require an excessive amount of sugar before I can effectively deploy the full force of my 'agreeable' demeanor and beam beatifically at the unsuspecting populace."

Wait... Excessive sugar... Levi's occasional manic energy during certain social events... the way his eyes sometimes held a peculiar, almost too-bright quality... Gods. The pieces clicked into place with a sickening thud. So, that Levi. The smiling, charming, 'nice' Levi...

My stomach lurched. Do I confront him? Do I blurt out my belated discovery and shatter the fragile peace we've been building? Do I try to stop him from going into his office? What do I even say? "Darling, I just realized your 'Saint' persona requires a comical amount of sugar, which, given your past struggles, feels... concerning?" Shit. His addiction... the underlying reasons for it must be so much more profound than I grasped. He told me he used it to "feel normal." Was this what he meant?

"Levi...You know you don't have to..."

"Hm?" he murmured, his brow furrowing slightly.

"I... I just realized something..." I stammered, trying to find the right words, the delicate balance between voicing my fears and not accusing him. "Do you... do you feel that need... that old need, the one you used to have... that need for a high... to cope with... things?"

Levi's expression softened. "Right now? No, Raphael. The cravings for either drugs or alcohol are absent," he said, reaching out to take my hand. "I am... neutral, at the moment. If we were to compare it to your rather vibrant emotional landscape, my current state of neutrality would likely register as something close to your daily happiness. So, please, calm yourself, hm?"

"Are you absolutely sure about that, Levi?" I pressed.

"Hm..." he mused, his gaze softening as he seemed to recognize the source of my unease. "I perceive that my description of my current emotional state has caused you some distress, dearest. Please, do not interpret it solely through the lens of your own vibrant emotional framework. I have no desire to resort to drugs or alcohol, not now, at least. That much is unequivocally true. However," a sheepish smile touched his lips, "I cannot, in good conscience, deny the persistent and rather insistent demands of my sweet tooth."

My highs are higher, my lows are lower. His is... flatter. And he says the cravings are gone, at least for the hard stuff. The sweet tooth... it's a less destructive vice, I suppose. A replacement? A harmless indulgence? Or a slippery slope?

"If you say so, Levi..." I replied, my voice still carrying a thread of concern. "But please, promise me you'll tell me if that craving ever resurfaces, even a little."

"Raphael," he said, as he squeezed my hand. "Please, do not allow yourself to become consumed by worry. And yes," he affirmed, his eyes meeting mine with sincerity, "I will tell you."

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Trust, for now, was the only path forward.

...

Stepping out of the taxi and tilting my head back to take in the full scale of Levi's company headquarters, I felt a genuine wave of dizziness wash over me. It wasn't just the sheer height of the building. It was the breadth

of it, a sprawling monolith of steel and endless expanses of reflective glass that stretched across the cityscape. It was like a self-contained city.

"The fuck, Levi," I breathed out, my voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of the city's hum.

Levi offered a small smile. "Welcome, my dear Raphael, to the headquarters of the country's largest pharmaceutical empire. A structure that houses, among other things, some of the most cutting-edge, advanced, and comprehensively equipped research laboratories you could possibly imagine." With that, he guided me towards the imposing entrance.

We moved towards the elevators, a silent procession through layers of security checkpoints, each barrier smoothly yielding to Levi's access card. Inside the elevator, Levi turned to me. "Office or laboratories first, dearest?"

"Shit, Levi..." I repeated, my mind still reeling from the scale of his empire. "My brain genuinely short-circuited for a moment there. Lab... definitely labs."

"Ah," he responded, a distinct note of pride now coloring his voice. "But which one, my curious Raphael? We have several, each dedicated to rather... specialized areas of research."

I groaned. "Just... shut up and take me to the most impressive one."

Levi pressed one of the lower buttons in the elevator. After a smooth descent, the doors slid open.

We continued down a seemingly endless corridor, its white walls reflecting the muted overhead lighting. We turned a corner, entering yet another identical passage, before finally spotting three figures in lab coats standing near a closed door.

Levi's smile bloomed, a sudden, dazzling radiance that felt as if the corridor had been momentarily bathed in sunlight. It was a smile of charm, and its effect on the waiting employees was immediate and palpable. Their faces softened, genuine smiles mirroring his own. "Welcome back, sir!"

The fuck?

Every other employee we passed in the periphery, while maintaining a respectful distance, had their gazes fixed on him, a look of almost mesmerized admiration in their eyes.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Levi said, his voice resonating with a genuine warmth that felt almost alien. "My husband and I wished to take a brief stroll through the laboratories, a casual observation of your invaluable work, with absolutely no intention of causing any disruption, of course."

Then, with a flourish, Levi opened a door for me. I stepped through, expecting to be immediately surrounded by the gleaming steel and humming machinery of a laboratory. Instead, we found ourselves on a mezzanine level, overlooking the actual lab space. It stretched out beneath our feet, a complex network of workstations and equipment visible through a vast expanse of reinforced glass. We walked towards the right wall, where a long staircase descended into the heart of the activity below.

Finally, we reached the entrance to the laboratory proper. Levi turned to me, his earlier saccharine smile vanished. "If you wish to venture inside, Raphael," he said, gesturing towards a rack of garments, "you'll need to don the appropriate attire: a lab coat, protective goggles, gloves, shoe covers, and a hair net."

"Are you perched up here, observing your employees like some kind of... scientific puppet master?" I asked, my earlier suspicion resurfacing.

"Please, Raphael," Levi said, his tone a mixture of mild exasperation and patient explanation. "Why would I engage in such a voyeuristic and ultimately ineffective practice? This mezzanine isn't for my personal amusement. It's an observation point for administrators, for other employees who oversee specific projects within this lab, for representatives from the health department during inspections, and for various other authorized personnel. It allows for a comprehensive overview of the lab's procedures without directly interfering with the delicate work being conducted below."

The image of him up here, silently watching... it felt a little too on-brand. But I should probably take him at his word.

"Fine, fine..." I conceded, a touch of playful resignation in my voice. "My mind tends to paint you in rather dramatic shades of villainy, so forgive my immediate suspicion. Now then, clothe me in the garb of science."

"But dearest," Levi purred, as he helped me into a sterile lab coat, "I am a villain. Just one with surprisingly robust regulatory compliance." We donned our protective goggles, the clear plastic slightly distorting our features. "On a more pressing matter," he continued, his tone shifting to one of thoughtful consideration, "while we are here, perhaps I should attempt to broker a fragile peace amongst the warring factions of alumni. However," he added, "let us forgo the head covers. Maintaining a certain air of... authority is paramount." He then gestured downwards. "But do ensure your shoes are properly covered. We must, after all, adhere to basic hygiene protocols."

What a truly bizarre man. Declaring himself a villain while simultaneously insisting on sterile footwear.

"Alright," Levi instructed, his earlier amusement replaced by a tone of serious caution. "Take off your glasses now, and hold them securely above your waistline. Do not touch anything, Raphael. Absolutely nothing at all. On the highly improbable chance that any chemical substance comes into contact with your skin, immediately locate one of the clean water fountains – they are situated to your immediate left and right as you proceed."

"Got it. Anything else I should be aware of?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light despite the slightly alarming instructions.

"Do not, under any circumstances, panic if any substance happens to splash onto your coat or even your skin. The material of these lab coats is specifically designed to offer protection against a wide array of chemicals. However, if direct skin contact occurs, your immediate and sole recourse is the water fountains. Never attempt to neutralize it with any other liquid – only water, and absolutely no soap. The fundamental rule, Raphael, is this: do not panic.”

"Okay..." I said slowly, trying to process the escalating warnings. "You're starting to make me genuinely worried now, Levi. Maybe you should calm down a little. But... why no soap? That seems counterintuitive."

"Because," he explained, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "a chemical compound might react violently, become dangerously unstable upon contact with even a mild soap. Allow me to recount a tale. There was a cargo ship transporting a vast quantity of a specific type of acid. In its pure form, this acid was actually relatively benign; it wouldn't even severely burn intact skin. However, an employee on board was unaware of this crucial detail. When an accident occurred and some of the acid splashed onto his face, his immediate reaction was disastrous. Instead of rinsing his face with clean water, the terrified man jumped into the sea. Now, Raphael, what happens when you introduce salt water to certain types of acid?" He paused, letting the question hang in the air. "It reacts, often exothermically, producing heat and potentially corrosive byproducts. He essentially boiled his face. You see, water is almost universally the safest first-aid measure for washing away chemical contaminants. I say 'almost' because, naturally, there are always exceptions, but for general purposes, water is the key."

"Gods..." I murmured, the image of the acid-burned sailor lingering unpleasantly in my mind. "What a truly gruesome story... But I understand the logic now. Actually," I added, a morbid curiosity piqued, "tell me more of these cautionary tales if you have them."

"Oh?" Levi said, a hint of a knowing smirk returning. "Did my brief foray into my chemist persona manage to tug at your somewhat morbid heartstrings, Raphael? Rest assured, I have a veritable treasure trove of such cautionary tales, ripe for recounting... perhaps later, in the relative comfort of my office. Right now," he said, his tone shifting back to one of determined purpose, "I have a delicate peace to broker amongst my rather... spirited staff." With that, he gently guided me through the lab entrance.

As Levi and I stepped into the bustling laboratory, every single head turned, every pair of eyes fixed on us with an intensity that felt almost... familial, as if they were gazing upon long-lost parents returning home. The fuck was with this? Levi, seemingly unfazed, offered them that sunlight smile of his, the one that could melt glaciers and apparently, the hearts of his employees.

"Excuse us for this brief interruption to your workflow, dear ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice resonating with the perfect warmth. The employees began to coalesce, forming a semi-circle around us, drawn in by his presence like moths fluttering towards a captivating flame.

"Of course not, sir," a young woman with wide, earnest eyes replied, her voice filled with genuine respect.

"Welcome back, sir," echoed a man standing slightly behind her.

These people actually seemed to adore, maybe even love, Levi. It was unnerving.

"Indeed," Levi continued, his charming smile unwavering as he surveyed the assembled group. "It has been some time since my last visit to this particular branch of our research endeavors. However, witnessing your collective dedication and the renowned capabilities of your team, I have no doubt that everything is proceeding with utmost efficiency and groundbreaking success.

"I truly do not wish to further encroach upon your valuable time," Levi continued, his warm smile never faltering, "however, a certain... work-related disagreement has unfortunately escalated to the higher echelons." He paused, his expression still open and encouraging, not one of accusation or reprimand, but rather an invitation for them to speak freely.

"Honestly, sir," one of the staff members admitted, "it's devolved into a matter of pride. The Academia alumni, with all due respect, tend to regard the institute graduates as somewhat... less 'pure' in their scientific approach, lacking the rigorous theoretical grounding. The institute alumni, in turn, view the Academia group as hopelessly out of touch with the practical realities of real-world drug development. These philosophical differences have manifested in heated disagreements about methodology, conflicting interpretations of data, and even… well, let's just say lab etiquette has suffered."

Levi listened intently, his expression carefully neutral, absorbing every nuance of the explanation. When the staff member finished, he inclined his head slightly, his gaze sweeping across the assembled group. "And these disagreements," he said, his voice calm, "have also escalated to the point where my esteemed employees have resorted to hurling laboratory glassware at one another, am I correct?"

Levi's carefully chosen words were… his profound disappointment. It was as if a wolf had suddenly donned sheep's clothing and begun bleating platitudes of peace.

A man in the back shifted uncomfortably. "It wasn't everyone, sir. Just a few... passionate individuals. There was a disagreement about the interpretation of the latest spectral analysis data, and voices were raised. Then... well, a small Erlenmeyer flask was thrown. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt."

Oops... Someone's trying to downplay the beaker-throwing incident.

"Passionate debates," Levi echoed, his voice calm, "are not, in and of themselves, a cause for my concern, ladies and gentlemen. In fact, the crucible of differing opinions often forges novel concepts, superior methodologies; it is the very engine of our intellectual evolution, refining not only our work but also our understanding of the world around us. What profoundly troubles me, however," he continued, his gaze sweeping across their faces, "is the stark reality that my employees – individuals possessing years of advanced education, individuals with comprehensive experience in handling delicate and potentially hazardous materials – chose to resolve a disagreement through a physical altercation within the confines of a laboratory. Let us consider a few sobering 'what ifs', shall we? What if that beaker, in the heat of the moment, had not been empty? What if the resulting glass shards had struck a colleague, causing serious injury? What if, amidst this unprofessional commotion, volatile acids, corrosive bases, or any number of other dangerous chemicals had been inadvertently splashed upon one of you? Would any of you be able to readily absolve yourselves of the crushing weight of guilt, knowing that your actions had directly harmed a fellow member of this team?"

Human cost. Levi talking about human cost. I blinked.

A woman who hadn't spoken before stepped forward, her expression grave. "Sir, on behalf of those involved, I can assure you that we understand the gravity of our actions. We have already begun discussing preventative measures, including improved communication protocols and strategies for conflict resolution."

Levi offered a gentle smile. "That is precisely the kind of proactive initiative I hoped to see. Now, regarding the fundamental disagreement... does the concept of being 'right' or 'wrong' truly hold any significance in the pursuit of knowledge? Right and wrong are subjective constructs, irrelevant in the objective realm of scientific inquiry. What truly matters, is the truth. If these intense discussions, these clashes of perspective, ultimately lead you to a breakthrough, a novel insight, why meet them with disdain or violence? Please, this is fundamental science. Do pride, ego, or any other such volatile emotions have a place within these walls? You know they do not. The moment you don your lab coats, you symbolically leave your personal biases, your ingrained ideologies, even your religious beliefs at the door. Alumni from both esteemed academic institutions and rigorous research institutes, was this not a foundational lesson in your very first semester? I know it was. Please, I implore you, do not allow negative emotions to fester and consume your focus. Instead, cultivate an environment where only the quiet satisfaction of discovery, the shared joy of progress, and perhaps a healthy sense of professional rivalry at the end of the day – a feeling of quiet contempt for ignorance vanquished by your honorable work – are the prevailing sentiments."

Truth over ego. Collaboration over conflict. Leaving your baggage at the door. It's almost... beautiful. Shit… He is a fucking leader when he wants to.

A hush fell over the assembled scientists. Several nodded slowly, their expressions thoughtful. The senior researcher who had earlier expressed contrition cleared his throat. "Sir," he began, his voice more steady now, "you are absolutely correct. We allowed our personal biases to cloud our judgment and undermine the collaborative spirit of this lab."

"I am genuinely heartened that we have reached a shared understanding, dear ladies and gentlemen," Levi said, his lips curving into a warm smile. "Now, if you will kindly excuse us, I intend to take immense pleasure in boasting to my dearest husband about the groundbreaking advancements occurring within this very cutting-edge laboratory." He let out a soft chuckle.

He lays down this incredible display of wisdom, tugging at their sense of professionalism and shared purpose. And then, in a single, casual sentence, he humanizes himself. A manipulator of the highest order. Just when you think you've glimpsed the real man, he throws in a curveball, reminding you that every word, every gesture, is likely calculated for maximum effect.

A chorus of "Of course, sir," and "Please do, sir," followed Levi's announcement, accompanied by warm smiles and nods of understanding.

Levi placed a hand on my back, guiding me towards a door on the far side of the lab. "Come, dearest," he murmured, his conspiratorial smile widening. "Let me regale you with tales of scientific wonder."

...

As we stepped inside the elevator, leaving the hum of the research behind, I couldn't help but shake my head, a bemused smile playing on my own lips.

"Shit..." I muttered, still slightly reeling. "You are so fucking good at this, Levi. In one single, perfectly crafted sentence... you went from benevolent peacemaker to humble husband, almost saintly in your desire to share your 'boasting' with me. Damn you."

"I did warn you, that your head might spin a little."

"Yes, you did," I conceded. "And in the lab, you were all 'human cost' and 'the weight of guilt'..." I shook my head, still trying to reconcile the two Levis.

"The easiest emotions to manipulate, my dear," Levi said, his tone shifting back to his more familiar pragmatism. "Their little spat was unacceptable unprofessionalism. I simply needed to frame the consequences in a way that would resonate. Reminding them that throwing things at each other in a lab filled with volatile substances is a rather gruesome way to end one's career, and possibly one's life, tends to be quite effective."

"So, it seems you can actually be a decent leader when the mood strikes you," I remarked, a hint of grudging admiration in my voice.

"Certainly," Levi replied. "But I would be bored. Simply telling a group of highly educated scientists not to hurl corrosive substances at one another? I could have unleashed a torrent of righteous fury, and frankly, I would have been entirely justified. However," he added with a shrug as the elevator doors slid open, revealing our destination, "sometimes a more... nuanced approach yields more compliant results."

He could be a terrifyingly good leader if he ever decided to fully embrace... well, not being Levi. But he's right, he'd be bored. Chaos and a touch of fear are definitely more his style. And honestly? It's part of what makes him... him.