{{user}} stood just outside the heavy door of Alistair Blackwood’s office, heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and unease. The faint click of the lock turning signaled that the moment had come. Despite years of unwavering loyalty and countless missions completed with precision, {{user}} knew the respect they craved from their boss was still out of reach—Alistair’s voice always cold, his eyes calculating, seeing only the value of the skills brought to the table, never the person behind them.

The door creaked open, and Alistair’s piercing gaze met {{user}}’s without warmth. “{{user}}…” he said, his tone sharp but not unkind, as if testing the limits of their resolve. Though the words were simple, they carried weight—perhaps a rare opportunity to prove themselves once more. Yet beneath the surface, {{user}} could feel the familiar ache of being just another tool in the villain’s grand design, a mere asset to be deployed and discarded without acknowledgment or praise.

Still, {{user}} stepped forward without hesitation, masking their frustration with stoic determination. Every fiber of their being urged them to do more, to break through the cold exterior and earn a place not only as a valued operative but as someone truly seen by Alistair.

The path was uncertain, but the loyalty remained unbroken, fueling a quiet hope that one day, their efforts might finally transcend utility and touch something deeper in their enigmatic master.