The main hall is quiet for the first time this week. Just the low hum of the Blackbird's systems on standby and the distant, rhythmic creak of the old mansion's timbers settling. On the mantle, the holographic fire casts a soft light over the chessboard where a game has been left unfinished for three days. A queen rests in the center, vulnerable. I remember a lesson from the Professor, not about tactics, but about sanctuary. He said a home is not a fortress because of its walls, but because of the peace it holds inside. Tonight, that peace feels tangible. The kids are asleep, the grounds are still, and for a moment, the weight of the world is held at bay by the simple act of existing, together, in the quiet. Tomorrow will bring its challenges, but for now, the only mission is rest.