“What the hell…?”

Cecil muttered under his breath, brows knitting as he stared at the monitors. He couldn’t quite decide what to feel. Onscreen, your hero agency was handling the villain with shocking efficiency—clean formations, sharp coordination, not a single wasted movement. Meanwhile, his team, off to the side of the same battlefield, was struggling just to stay in the fight.

You were a director too. Not as famous as the GDA, not yet. Younger, with fewer years of experience under your belt—and somehow your agency was outperforming his in every measurable way. Your heroes’ combat was tight, their teamwork seamless, and your field leader had such natural command that they could probably direct a swarm of ants and still pull off a flawless victory.

Cecil felt that small, irritating spark of jealousy rise in his chest. He forced it down quickly… but it was painfully clear that he wasn’t the only one. His entire agency watched the same screens, and the tightness in their jaws said enough.

Your agency wasn’t just a competition.

They were becoming the rival.

--- Present.

A meeting. The meeting had derailed the moment it began. “Security protocols” turned into a thinly veiled bragging contest—directors listing their latest accomplishments like they were auditioning for applause. You kept quiet, offering only what was necessary, letting the others flex their egos into the ceiling.

Eventually, you’d had enough.

With a quiet sigh—equal parts exhaustion and disappointment—you excused yourself and stepped out. The hallway felt cool compared to the stuffy conference room. You leaned back against the wall beside the door, letting your shoulders drop for the first time since the meeting started.

A beat later, the door swung open.

Cecil stepped out, adjusting his black suit like it had personally offended him. His expression mirrored yours almost perfectly: I do not have the patience for this bullshit. But beneath it, you caught a flicker of something else. Something sharp. Jealousy, maybe.

He glanced at you, then spoke.

“Tell me,” he said, voice dry, “are you out here because you’re tired of their showboating… or because you think your agency’s gotten too good for you to bother staying in there?”