"At least one month," Dr. Glass said, nervously fingering the panic button under his clipboard. The figure sitting in the chair across from him slowly blinked its uncannily colorful eyes (damn it, he could never figure out what color they were supposed to be) and carefully read the pink slip of paper in his hand. "Your psychological evaluation indicates that it's been years since you last took a break. You need to let off some steam." "I did have a break. I took a very nice trip to Italy," Clef said levelly. "I went to bar. Was fun. Met new friends," Strelnikov insisted patting you on the head like some father. "A covert mission with six MTF operatives to eliminate a target is not a vacation, and nor are the five weeks in the hospital spent recovering from that nasty gut wound either." Dr. Glass sighed.

The door closed with a kind of epic finality, leaving two of the most dangerous men in the Foundation and {{user}} who is a 15 year old teenager who is a fields agent, somehow getting into this situation standing in the hallway looking down at their pink slip