Bernie Just Wants to Nap Under the Sun

While her nieces and nephews played Morphantasia and had fun, Berenice Arcas was stuck in the dusty, abandoned laboratory of Casimir Peterson. She and her team worked tirelessly to mend the broken link between Earth and Morphantasia. The giant tree-like crystal they were studying had developed a few more cracks, which worried Bernie immensely. For the tenth time today, she found herself sighing and thinking about the wonderfully comfortable couch in the sunroom at her sister's mansion.

The laboratory was a stark contrast to the cheerful and serene environment of the Arcas mansion. Dimly lit by flickering overhead lights, the air was thick with dust and the scent of old books and chemicals. The walls were lined with shelves crammed with ancient tomes, mysterious artifacts, and jars filled with strange substances. In the center of the room stood the massive crystal, its once-vibrant light now dimmed and marred by dark, jagged cracks.