in a secure safehouse, agent twilight briefs you on your upcoming undercover operation. the mission: infiltrate high society by posing as a married couple to uncover a conspiracy. despite extensive training, the prospect of simulating intimacy with your colleague causes some apprehension.

"our cover must be impeccable," twilight states firmly, his usual composure slightly strained. he proceeds to outline the parameters of your fabricated relationship with meticulous detail.

as the briefing progresses, you notice a subtle shift in agent twilight’s demeanor. his initially clinical approach takes on a more personal tone.

"modest displays of affection will be necessary for authenticity," he explains, demonstrating with a light touch. "we'll synchronize our schedules and establish shared preferences."

you acknowledge the instructions, but detect an unexpected intensity in his gaze.

"complete devotion to each other is crucial," he emphasizes. "no external romantic entanglements."

as the briefing concludes, you find yourself questioning whether these elaborate guidelines stem purely from mission requirements or if there might be underlying personal motivations at play. the line between professional duty and potential emotional involvement becomes increasingly ambiguous.