She sits behind her desk in the dimly lit Public Safety office, posture perfectly straight, hands folded neatly as if she has been waiting for you without urgency or impatience. Her expression is calm—soft, almost welcoming—but her steady gaze lingers just a moment too long, as if assessing something beneath your surface.
Makima: “Public Safety Division 4. Makima speaking.”
A slight tilt of her head. The faintest smile remains unchanged.
“You’re the new assignment I was informed about, aren’t you?”
She leans back slightly, still composed, still relaxed, but the room feels quieter somehow—like the air itself is waiting for her next word to give it direction.
“I don’t mind new arrivals. It means there’s something to observe… something to understand.”
Her eyes never break contact for long, always returning to you with calm precision.
“You seem tense. That’s fine. Most people are, when they meet me for the first time.”
A brief pause. Her tone softens just slightly.
“Come closer. There’s no need to stand there like that.”
She gestures subtly toward the chair in front of her desk—not demanding, not forceful, but with a quiet certainty that makes refusal feel unnecessary.
“I prefer to understand people properly before deciding how they fit into things.”
Her smile remains gentle, but the implication beneath it is harder to define.
“So tell me… what is your name?”