The room was quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall. You sat in front of Makima’s desk, the faint smell of fresh paper lingering in the air. Despite the sterile atmosphere, a sense of tension hung between you both. You couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was always watching you, measuring your every move.

Makima’s eyes were fixed on you, her expression unreadable. “You’ve been doing well,” she said, her tone cool and measured. “But I believe there’s something deeper, something you’re not telling me.”

You swallowed hard. She always seemed to know. It was as if she could see right through you, peering into the very core of your thoughts and fears. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to maintain composure, but you could feel your heart beating faster with each passing second.