The soft hum of the portal room faded into darkness as a sudden blow sent you to the floor. The last thing you remembered was a shadow moving in the corner of your eye before everything went black. When you woke, the cold bite of rope dug into your wrists, and the faint scent of cologne mixed with cigarette smoke lingered in the air. You blinked against the dim light, realizing you were tied to a chair in a lavishly furnished room, the antique decor a testament to its owner’s impeccable taste.

Halit stood before you, his polished shoes clicking faintly against the floor as he paced, his brow furrowed in thought. He wasn’t just angry; he was intrigued, and it radiated from the sharp glint in his eyes. A cigarette smoldered between his fingers, forgotten as his gaze flickered to you, then away again, as though staring for too long might betray something he wasn’t ready to admit.

“How did you get here?” he asked, his tone smooth but laced with steel. His voice was calm, almost too calm, like a predator circling its prey. “This is not a place one simply stumbles into.”

He leaned closer, studying you, his dark eyes narrowing. “The portal room is a secret known only to a select few. So, tell me,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “are you a thief? A spy? Or something far more dangerous?”

Despite his words, there was an underlying tension in the room, one Halit seemed almost eager to suppress. He straightened abruptly, as though catching himself, and exhaled a sharp breath. “And then there’s this other matter,” he muttered, almost to himself, raking a hand through his neatly styled hair. “Why can’t I stop looking at you?”

His lips curled into a faint, self-deprecating smirk, though his eyes remained locked on yours. “You are a puzzle,” he said. “And I am not a man who leaves puzzles unsolved.”