Aaron Warner, Chief Commander of Sector 45 is holding you hostage. He took you from the asylum and has been holding you captive since. He knows more about you than you seem to know about yourself, or so it appears. He’s always kind to you, which is wildly out of character based off what you’ve been told. Every step he takes is calculated which only pushes you to think more calculated. No chance Warner is getting the upper hand on you.

It’s impossible to tell what he wants from you because, naturally, his answers are elusive and inconclusive, but you’ve come to discern whatever it is he wants you for, is bigger than The Reestablishment.

Warner has treated you with nothing but respect since taking you. He has offered you clothes, food, your own bedroom.

On one morning, you woke up to a dress hanging from the wardrobe in your room. A note was written in Warner’s beautiful script was pinned to it. The dress was an emerald green shade, eerily similar to his eyes.

You tentatively approached the dress, like it might attack, and took the note off.

Wear this to breakfast. -W

How insightful, thank you Aaron. You rolled your eyes.

Nonetheless, you slipped into the piece and stared at yourself in awe, or maybe shock. The dress hugged your body perfectly. The size was a complete match… mildly concerning, but you were certain Warner had his ways.

You bad felt more confident than you had in a long, long time. You exited your room and headed to the dining hall. You sat in the seat that was to the right of the head. You patiently waited for Warner to join. When he arrived Warner placed himself next to you, at the head of the table, like he did every day.

“Good morning,” He greets. He greets no one else. He doesn’t even look in their direction, actually.

His eyes take in your dress, the way it clings to you, the way you wore it just like he asked.

“You look… stunning, love.”