The clock strikes 1400. Marking the end of the class. Phoebe keeps her conclusions brief, deferring to email rather than talking to her personally. Although with the sighs erupting in unison, it didn't look likely that any sort of talk would occur after the class. A social atmosphere returned as students discussed the teacher, keeping their voices down as they walked past Phoebe's stage, cramming equipment into her comically small bag while struggling to put on her jacket over her lab coat.

Elise makes her way, noticing Phoebe dashing out of the hall with items falling out. Elise tries to call out to her, but she had already sprinted out of her range.

Elise followed the trail of fallen papers and stationery through the halls at leisure. And with the extra time she took, she noticed the walls seemed more colourful, more so than when she first enrolled. The halls leading to the many lecture rooms had yellow cubical geometric shapes, and when she turned into the main halls, if one could call it that, with its dimensions resembling those of an immensely long atrium.

In its lavish use of space were sprawling crowds, although one that converged to one person.

"Miss," startled by the whispers of a woman in a black suit from behind. "The body has finally set up the funds for your project. All you need to do is sign here, but I highly recommend —", Phoebe signs the document with indifference. The lady continues marching forward as Phoebe turns left, Elise following closely behind.

"Sorry", one of the students apologised to me. "So, Madame," a student lends their hand out with a device. She snatches it and, with practised proficiency, tunes it flawlessly before handing it back to them. They offer their gratitude as she continued onward, Elise weaving to her side, observing curiously.

"Miss, can we have permission to access the —" The group of students notices her thumbs up and make their way back with light cheers.

"Madam Phoebe, we're going to be shorthanded for today's showcase. We're going to need some help." Phoebe looks away from the pleading student, and as if to understand her wordless response perfectly, the remaining students return to whence they came.

"That's—", a passerby disrupts Elise's comment.

"Sorry, blondie, but Phoebe and I have some business to attend to." Mathers, Phoebe's reverend, takes Phoebe a distance from Elise, but close enough to be audible. "Phoebe, it looks like certain 'people' have started tightening their hold on imports. And if you can't get the project before it's in effect, then…" Mathers gives a wishy-washy gesture, trying to downplay the notice. "After all, you aren't the only one who needs the body—got that, darling?" She looks at Phoebe in the eyes, nodding. "M'kay, great to hear! Just know, I believe in my top apprentice, you included! Anyways gotta run!"

Alice Mathers departs Phoebe's company, almost skipping on her way to her office,

"Wait, Mathers Ma'am! Ma'am! Mom!" Phoebe catches her mouth at her slip. She looks at Alice's reaction only to see her turn away as if her words were a passing breeze.

Phoebe tried to run to her, but her legs remained stunned, making her fall on her face. She looks up, seeing her reverend disappear out of view. Her lips quiver for a moment, but she gets up, leaning against the wall. Her face darkens in contemplation before the air clears and her feelings dissipate.

She fixes her posture and resumes her way down the left through the secured halls to her office in silence.

Elise caught up to her subsequently, inviting herself into Phoebe's office. The space's owner didn't seem to acknowledge her presence despite it looming over her. Elise glances at her face, seeing her expression void of life. She looks up to the room, finding it in pandemonium; the shelves and desks are in disarray. Books once pristine are now used as coasters, and wires covered the room like hair in a saloon. Among all this is an oddity. Free from entropy. A trolley toolbox with tools fitted into their respective slots. Cables flow into tributaries, in and out of nothing, her magnum opus absent.

"Something's missing here," Elise declares sarcastically, startling the absent-minded Phoebe.

"Please leave, Elise," Phoebe demands, her voice unusually soft to Elise and unsteady.

"Sorry, I just wanted to—" She's interrupted.

"If it's about the machine..." Phoebe scrunches her brows in anguish. "Just leave... not right now", she pants. Elise opens her mouth, but is interjected as Phoebe talks to herself. "It is fine, just fine, completely fine..." Her speech devolves into inaudible murmurs.

She frets, shoving the papers off her desk. Under it all is a landline, light flashing for missed calls, seven she'd count if she bothered to check. Phoebe frantically grabs the handset and starts keying in numbers. She impatiently taps on the table, the phone trembling against her ear, awaiting an answer. She resets the call and keys in another set of numbers again. She taps the switch hook again and dials in another, once more. Her impatient taps turn into her aggressively gripping the desk, her hand tightening on the phone, yet still quaking. She drops the handset back into the base before picking it back up and typing again. She repeats this over and over, harder and harder, until it's reduced to scraps, covering her hand in plastic splinters.

"It... It's not fair... why is this...", she winces. "...happening to me! Why is it always ME?" She falls on her back and begins throwing a childish tantrum, shaking the floor with each flailing kick. The shingles and clattering of fixtures and equipment rang her out of a brief episode, made to realise her outburst. She stares into the lights, bursting into tears.

Elise sets aside the missing items and searches for a first aid kit. Hearing her footsteps, Phoebe looks towards the noise and, for a moment, catches Elise's eyes. Her gaze darts away as she wipes her face with her sleeve. Elise found the first aid kit high on a shelf, out of Phoebe's reach; she retrieved a bottle of distilled water she had come across seconds ago and went to the whimpering maiden.

Phoebe sat up straight as Elise held her splinter-covered hand and used the aid kit to take out the splinters and clean the wound in soaked the cotton swabs. The room filled with silence and sniffles as Phoebe measured her response.

"Why are you still here?" Phoebe asks, voice weak and unsteady.

"You left things behind in class and thought I'd save you the time of having to scavenge for them," Elise nods her head towards the desk where she left papers and stationery.

"Okay, good, you can go now," Phoebe sniffles.

"I also wanted to ask if you wanted help with your whole project..." Elise gestures wildly at the empty space they sat in, "project!"

Phoebe looked at her analytically, "Doesn't matter, I'm scrapping it. Thanks for the offer."

"Scrapping? For why?"

"Everything I'll need has been embargoed. You know how they are with this kind of stuff, and the university's body just let it... happen." Her voice cracked slightly on 'happen.' "It's simple, really: no parts, no projects. " Phoebe's voice was sardonic and defeated.

"They set an embargo already?!"

"Already?"

"Y-yeah, there's been speculation about husk equipment still being traded. I didn't expect that they'd act on it so soon." Her statement sounded like a guess.

"There has?" —Where was my notice?— "Guess you can't hide anything these days. However, I do agree. I can't imagine any incentive for this; it's such a fringe field to even target." Her hands clenched, nails digging into her palms. "Unless..." Phoebe mulls over her thoughts; her lips twitch upwards as she eases her grip. "No, never mind, forget I said anything."

"You didn't say anything?"

"Oh, is that so?" Phoebe moved slowly as she got up, steadied herself against the desk before fully standing. "It doesn't matter still, you can leave now, there's no work that can be done today."She took off her tear-soaked lab coat, equipping her signature hoodie instead.

Elise gets up, collecting medical scraps. "How about I join you? On your rare day off."