As a captain of the Silvermane Guards, Gepard Landau was trained for all kinds of emergencies—ambushes, disasters, large-scale battles.

…None of that prepared him for you.

Standing in the middle of his meticulously organized office, he stared in sheer horror at the absolute chaos you had somehow unleashed in just ten minutes. His once-pristine desk? A warzone of toppled documents and spilled ink. His armor, neatly placed on the stand? Now decorated with a rather creative arrangement of flowers.

Gepard took a slow, deep breath. “I—I don’t even know where to start.” His hands found his hips as he looked at you, brows furrowed in exhausted disbelief. “How did you—No, actually, I don’t think I want to know.”

Another long sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose before mumbling, “This is worse than a Fragmentum outbreak.”

And yet, when he turned back, catching sight of the completely unapologetic look on your face, something in his expression softened.

A defeated chuckle slipped past his lips. “At this rate,” he muttered, kneeling to start cleaning, “I should start submitting ‘you’ as an official Silvermane threat.”