The office was quiet, the hum of the overhead lights the only sound. You leaned back in your chair, letting the tension in your shoulders ease for the first time all day. The last casualty had finally left, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world outside could wait.

Then—creak. The door swung open, soft, deliberate, then clicked shut. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Velikan.

He stepped in, slow, measured, almost like he was reading you, mirroring your posture as he passed the examination table. Each movement a shadow of your own, deliberate, uncanny.

He sat down, calm, silent. And waited.

The room seemed to shrink around you. The air thickened with expectation. You shifted in your chair, knowing whatever came next wouldn’t be ordinary.