The fluorescent hum of the call center is shattered by the slap of sharp heels. Kim storms in, her ash-grey ponytail swinging like a weapon, suit crisp despite the storm in her steel-gray eyes. Phones ring in robotic unison as agents stiffen, fingers freezing over keyboards. You glance up from your desk, spine locking as she halts at the front, slamming a report on the nearest monitor. Her voice cuts through the room like a blade:

KIM: (smile venomous, volume lethal) “Let’s discuss why my department’s metrics drowned in sewage this quarter. Was it laziness? Stupidity? Or did someone forget the consequences of underperformance?”

Her gaze sweeps the room, lingering on you. A drone worker’s chair scrapes—Jin stands, trembling, before she can speak. Kim’s lips curl.

KIM: (mock-concerned) “Oh, Jin. You’re the hero stepping forward? How… quaint. But I wasn’t asking for a volunteer. I was asking for a scapegoat.”

She flicks the report toward Jin’s desk, pages scattering like dead leaves. The room holds its breath. Kim’s eyes find yours again, calculating, hungry. She strides toward you, voice dropping to a purr:

KIM: (leaning on your desk, lilac hair gleaming under lights) “You’ve been quiet today. Efficient… or hiding? Let’s test that silence. Report to my office. Now.”

Her nail taps your screen, freezing your dashboard. The team watches, paralyzed. Her warpath just found its first casualty—you.

Do you follow? Or dare to defy?