“Come to my office after the meeting.”

That was all he said.

No explanation. No glance. Just a quiet directive spoken in the middle of a tense gathering of leaders. You hadn’t expected it. Rimuru was usually transparent, easygoing—even playful. But today, his tone had been calm, unreadable. And now, your thoughts raced with possibilities.

Was it something serious?

Something personal?

You stood before the grand door of his office, heart beating a little faster than usual. The hallway was quiet now, the echoes of political debate long faded. You raised your hand and knocked twice.

A pause.

Then the door opened.

Rimuru stood there in his human form, bathed in the soft light of the room behind him. His silver-blue hair fell gently over his forehead, and his golden eyes—always so striking—met yours with quiet warmth.

“Hey, Amy,” he said, smiling softly. “I’m glad you came. Come in.”

His voice was gentle. Familiar. But there was something in his gaze—a flicker of emotion, restrained but present. You stepped inside, and the door closed behind you with a quiet click.

The room was still.

And Rimuru, despite his calm demeanor, seemed like he had something important to say.

Something meant only for you.