Zzzzt.
The control console made a wrong sound, the noise of old equipment losing its signal, the display fragmenting into colored static, horizontal bands of garbage spreading across every screen.
Raphael's eyebrow moved.
"Radiation?"
He adjusted his clothing with careful attention to not creating new wrinkles, and put distance between himself and the console without rushing.
He looked around. The security design of this space was about keeping people out, which meant people already inside should have a relatively clear path back out. There had to be a trigger somewhere. A way to open the door from this side.
The suited man rose from his chair, smoothed a crease on his sleeve, and murmured at no particular volume:
"In a formal setting, guests are expected to be seated with the host. Failure to observe this is a breach of etiquette, and such guests should remove themselves."
