Inside the spacious room, with a high ceiling and light gray walls, and a dark floor, there was a large table in the center. A middle-aged figure sat at the table, their features obscured by the dim light, as if they were part of the room itself.
"Is that all that happened?"
A cold voice filled the space, as if it were cutting the ability to breathe.
The trembling figure stood before him, their body shaking with fear, while he examined the report in his hands. After a few moments, he bowed deeply, the floor wet with streaks of blood from his tilted head, as a heavy silence engulfed the room.
The silence did not last long, as the seated shadow lifted its head slowly. Every movement was calculated, and every glance dripped with deadly coldness.
"He failed… that is why I trust no one but the numbered ones."
—crack—crack—crack—
