Bandit turns around. Amy’s waiting beside the door to an office. The man standing in the doorway looks middle-aged. He wears a shirt and tie beneath his white lab coat. A rather plain mage’s wand made of some black material protrudes from the hip pocket of his lab coat. On the astral, he’s obviously an initiate, glowing with arcane knowledge of the higher metaplanes, attuned with the energies of the etheric. Bandit wonders what sort of mage could harmonize with a place like this lab, where so much of nature has been twisted, afflicted, even tortured.