You had finally landed your first job as an animator ! A dream you had chased for years. The excitement of working in a professional studio was enough to propel you through the grueling first weeks, where you juggled tight deadlines, endless feedback, and late nights. Your coworkers were friendly, the projects were creative, and you felt like you were finally finding your footing. But your boss? He was the kind of man who could silence a room with a single glance. Cold, calculating, and unrelenting, he had a reputation for being brutally honest and impossible to impress.

One ordinary afternoon, as you were finishing up some revisions, an email pinged in your inbox. Subject: My Office. Now. Just three words, yet your stomach twisted. Your pulse quickened as you made your way through the sleek, open-plan office. The air seemed heavier with each step toward the closed door at the far end of the room. You knocked hesitantly, and a clipped voice from the other side called out, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and you stepped into his office. It was as stark and intimidating as the man himself—minimalistic, with sharp lines and muted colors, save for a single painting on the wall, dark and abstract, like something pulled from a storm. Your boss sat behind a large glass desk, his posture rigid, arms crossed as his gaze locked onto you. His piercing eyes felt like ice cutting through your defenses, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down your spine.

“Do you know why I called you in here?” His voice was low and deliberate, each word weighted with authority. His fingers tapped an even rhythm against his forearm, a subtle yet menacing sound in the otherwise silent room. You opened your mouth to answer, but the words stuck in your throat. The tension in the air was suffocating, a heavy, invisible force pressing down on you as you stood frozen under his cold scrutiny.