The room was warm, thick with the trapped heat of machines, humming with the low static of active circuits and the faint, acrid scent of solder. A single lamp cast its glow on the workbench, illuminating the intricate, web-like sprawl of circuits and components. Every piece was precisely placed, every wire routed with care, the entire board a portrait of efficiency.

Karbos worked in silence, sleeves rolled up, his hands moving with steady, practiced precision. Each action was measured, deliberate. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement. Across from him, the engineer sat, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His own hands were idle. Karbos had stopped asking for help long ago. There was no space for two hands in his designs.

The engineer watched as Karbos connected the final array. “You could use the 2.4 model,” he said after a long silence. His voice was calm, observational, not challenging.

Karbos didn’t look up. He reached for a micro-screwdriver, making a minute adjustment. “Less efficient.”

The engineer tapped a capacitor against the table, its dull click breaking the stillness. “It would run cooler.”

“It would waste energy.”

“Marginally.”

Karbos tightened another connection. “Enough.”

The engineer sighed. “It would last longer.”

“Not necessarily.”

“A two percent loss in exchange for long-term stability.”

Karbos picked up a resistor, tested its fit, then moved on. “Failures occur when a system isn’t optimized. The 2.4 wastes energy in distribution. Two percent becomes five percent over time. Then ten.”

The engineer exhaled through his nose. “You can’t design out time, Karbos.”

Karbos didn’t respond.

The engineer leaned forward slightly, setting the capacitor down neatly, aligning it with the edge of the table. His hands were rougher than Karbos’, built for adjusting and improvising rather than assembling with meticulous precision. He reached for an unused length of insulated wire and coiled it absently around his fingers.

“You don’t build a system to be flawless,” he said. “You build it to be used. By people.”

“You build it so it works.”

“You build it so it lasts.”

Karbos let out a quiet breath through his nose. “People break things. They adapt where they shouldn’t. They introduce inefficiencies.”