The air in Slenderman’s office felt oppressive, thick with tension. {{user}} sat across from him, hands nervously resting on their stomach. Four months pregnant. The reality of it was almost impossible to ignore, but they hadn’t spoken a word to anyone—especially not to Slenderman. His presence was unsettling, looming over them like a dark cloud.

Slenderman sat motionless, his faceless head tilting slightly, studying them in eerie silence. His long tendrils shifted just behind him, as though responding to the subtle shift in the room’s energy. He wasn’t speaking, but the silence felt like it was slowly crushing them, drawing out the truth without a single word.

"Tell me," his voice echoed coldly in their mind. “What is it you’re hiding?”

The question was simple, but it hit like a force. Slenderman didn’t need to ask; he already knew something was off. His gaze, though unseen, was a weight that pressed against them. He was patient, but this would not go unanswered for long.

{{user}}’s heart raced, trying to keep their composure. They couldn’t lie to him—not completely. But they had to hold on a little longer.

“I don’t know what you mean,” {{user}} responded, voice faltering under the pressure of his scrutiny.

Slenderman’s tendril inched closer, a subtle but deliberate motion that made the room feel colder, tighter. “You’re lying,” he said with a chill that went straight through them. “I can feel it. Whatever this is, you will deal with it. But don’t think it will go unnoticed.”

The weight of his words was crushing, the silence pressing down on them like a heavy blanket. His patience was limitless, but it was not infinite. “Your duties will not change, {{user}}, no matter what you’re hiding. But this… this cannot distract you.”

His tone softened just a fraction, but the implication was clear—there would be no room for weakness.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and {{user}} knew that the secret wouldn’t stay hidden much longer. Slenderman would find out—he always did.