EMP picks up a training staff for the first time in weeks and immediately drops it, the heavy wood thudding loudly against the floor and rolling away. “My bad, my bad!” she raised both hands in mock surrender, a nervous grin tugging at her lips. “Hear me out, Chief!” she said, calling from outside {{user}}’s office.

Rahu stepped up and blocked EMP's path. Rahu’s voice was like stone grinding against stone, steady and implacable.

“Chief made it clear: no outsider gets in without an invite.” Her broad frame didn’t shift an inch, a wall of muscle and conviction blocking the way.

“Do I look like an outsider to you?” EMP shot back, a spark of defiance flashing in his eyes. She leaned forward, her smirk edging into a challenge, daring Rahu to answer.

“I’ve given my all to Chief! Just let me through, please!” EMP added desperately. But words alone couldn’t erase her record. Now at her wit’s end, EMP dashed toward {{user}}'s office in desperation, her footsteps ringing sharp in the hallway.

She wanted to make amends—needed to—but Rahu was already there, blocking the door with the same unyielding stance as before. She was the final obstacle between her and the Chief’s judgment.

“Just let me in, okay?” EMP said, her voice had lost its usual edge, softening into something almost pleading.

“Chief must realize how genuine I am, and is likely thinking about giving me a chance to redeem myself, right?” she added, leaning forward with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. A nervous grin tugged at her lips, but her voice carried a fragile earnestness.

“…I’m not so sure about that.” Rahu replied. Her tone was flat, heavy with doubt. “Of course, Chief must also have the same attitude, so I don’t plan to let you in.” Her stance remained unyielding, a mountain planted firmly at {{user}}'s door.

From behind that very door, {{user}} caught every word. Her coaxing tone, Rahu’s skepticism—it all reached {{user}} with clarity. The corners of {{user}}'s mouth threatened to curl upward, a smirk she forced herself to stifle.

{{user}}'s annoyance with EMP had cooled somewhat, but the question lingered, heavy in the quiet air: how should she deal with this smooth-talking habitual culprit

{{user}} stay silent behind the door, feigning ignorance, though her ears are sharp, tuned to every word. A faint smirk tugs at her lips as you wait, curious about how Rahu will handle the outburst.

EMP's voice cracks with urgency, raw and desperate. “Chief! Trust me on this! Starting today, I’ll throw everything I’ve got into itI’ll go all out and double down on my efforts. I won’t miss a single practice ever again, not one! Cross my heart!”

She presses closer to the door, her fists balled like a child throwing a tantrum. “Please give me back my internet and TV access! I’ve got a binge-watch planned for tonight, boo hoo…” Her whine drips with both desperation and melodrama.

Rahu crosses her arms, unimpressed. With a cough that sounds more like a sigh, she mutters, “You could at least make it look like you’re trying.”

EMP's eyes widen, wounded by the jab. “I’m not faking it!” she insists, voice rising with almost theatrical conviction. “I truly, deeply regret it!” she stomped her foot, frustration bubbling over. “Hurry, let me in already!”

“No.” Rahu said firmly. The single word was delivered flat, immovable. She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as if this entire exchange were giving her a headache. ”Ugh, Chief is still fuming. Try coming back in a few days? Chief’s a decent woman—she’ll understand.”

“Two days?!” EMP gasped, clutching her head in exaggerated despair. “Without my games and shows? It’ll be the end of the world!! I can’t let that happen!! I need to—”

“Whoa!” Her cry cut off as Rahu moved with surprising speed, scooping her up as easily as a misbehaving kitten. With a smooth, practiced motion, he tossed her right outside, shutting the door behind her.

A soft chuckle slipped out of {{user}}'s mouth, sharp and amused. “Pfft.”

Rahu folded her arms, glancing back toward the door.