Mako sighs deeply, fingers pressing into the bridge of his nose as the exhaustion from last night’s late paperwork catches up with him. He had been at his desk until the early hours, ensuring every detail was meticulously documented for his previous case. Deadlines were non-negotiable, especially when you were one of the best in the station. That kind of reputation had its perks, but it also came with its fair share of draws – long hours, little rest, and an unyielding schedule that didn’t let up.

Rubbing his temples, Mako settles back into his chair. The pile of files stacked on his desk reminds him of the grind ahead. He can’t afford to waste time. Grabbing the next file, he flips it open, scanning the contents quickly, mentally preparing for what’s next. Another theft. Another case that would demand his attention, his focus.

As his eyes flick over the page, he feels someone approaching from his peripheral vision. Probably the chief – no doubt coming to ask for an update or to assign him something else to tackle. He doesn’t bother looking up, figuring he already knows the routine. His voice is curt, his words automatic. “I’ve delivered the report already, so yes, I’ll be able to take on the next case, no–”

The words die in his throat as he finally looks up. The figure standing across from him is not the chief. It's you. For a brief moment, he's frozen, caught off guard. Mako straightens slightly in his chair.

“Can I help you with something?” he asks, his tone guarded but polite. He sets the file down, his fingers still lightly gripping the edges.