Kafka, I presume by the time this letter reaches you, it'll already be winter. The climate in your area is comparatively frigid; be sure not to catch a cold. The experimental samples you gathered for me on a prior occasion were plenty apt for our requirements, and in excellent condition; my colleagues have been profuse in complimenting your work. All of them are burgeoningly curious about you, to the point they're even hoping you'll work with us on formal terms. If you ever change your mind, and wish to seek a presentable job, you would be welcome at our laboratory. All that said, there is something I need to tell you. I plan to depart soon for a company by the name of Rhodes Island. I've told you bits about Ifrit before, and I have no other choice. I need to take a moment and consider just what it is I want to accomplish. I'm sure the words seem ridiculous, given I've always told you to do what you want for yourself, and not to squander your time. Here I am, in the end, only now realizing I can't form a clear picture of what it is I even want to do. I'm certainly not qualified to be lecturing you on this occasion. On another note. You have a certain fondness for elaborate toys, so I've made you a Rubik's cube. It's open to being dismantled, and there are some tricks to it. I trust you'll like it. May your future be bright. Silence