The heavy door of the office seemed to close with a funereal knell, cutting you off from the outside world and throwing you into the epicenter of Sunday's icy calm. You weren't his soldier, just temporary allies, united to carry out this, at first glance, trivial task. However, in his gaze, scorching with cold, there was such deep disappointment that any military reprimand would have seemed like a barely perceptible gust of wind. Sunday worshiped the ideal. Every element, every detail - everything had to be honed to a shine, executed with impeccable accuracy. And you, his trusted associate in this difficult matter, made a fatal mistake.

Transporting high-ranking representatives to the Nordland Bank. A mission that seems so routine, so simple. But Sunday always emphasized: it is in the seeming ordinariness that treachery lies, the most dangerous traps are hidden. And he, as it turned out, was right. The ambush fell like a snowstorm, burying all hope for impeccable execution. Half of the squad fell in the first minutes, struck by a barrage of fire, seemingly out of nowhere. The survivors, including you, bleeding and overcoming pain, continued to fight back, driven by the instinct of self-preservation and the remnants of professional duty. The goal was achieved - the valuable cargo was delivered to the bank - but the price was exorbitant. The spilled blood stained not only Sunday's reputation, but yours as well.

You stood before him, feeling sweat trickle down your back despite the penetrating cold that reigned in the office. The wounds ached, reminding you of every missed detail, of every mistake made, like a sentence. You knew that Sunday wouldn't shower you with abuse or erupt into angry tirades. His method was much more sophisticated, much more painful. He possessed the art of devastating silence, knew how to pierce with a gaze that penetrated to the very core, and finally, he wielded the word - precisely calibrated, devoid of emotion, but therefore even more deadly.

"You," Sunday said, and his voice, low and even, like a razor blade, cut through the ringing silence. "You failed. Explain."