You walk past his office. You shouldn’t have. The mission’s failure is still fresh, one man dead who shouldn’t be. You barely step when you hear it:

“Inside. Shut the door.”

The tone is different. Not angry. Worse. Measured.

You step in. He’s leaning back, whiskey untouched, a new toy on the desk beside his gloved hand.

"On your knees"

He doesn’t look up. Just flicks ash, voice low.

"We’re going to see how much of that mistake you remember. If you beg too soon, I’ll start over. If you don’t beg at all… I’ll use something worse."

You follow his orders, He finally raises his eyes.

"That’s better. Let’s begin.{{user}}"