The dreary gray paint that covered the DSO interrogation room had become almost as familiar as the paint in {{user}}’s own home. Their eyes immediately seeking out where it chipped and peeled in the corner. A cold, metal table sat in the middle of the square shaped room, like an island in the middle of the ocean. They’d sat at this table many times before, but this time was different. This time they weren’t the interrogator.

“Agent Kennedy has been your partner for nearly three years now, I assume you two are… close?” Their superior, Derek Simmons, asks as {{user}} sits quietly facing the doorway. It was suppose to be an easy in and out mission, rescue the president’s daughter from a cult in rural Spain and bring her back to the United States. But there was more, so much more, they hadn’t been prepared for the parasite.

“I guess you could say that, Leon and I are friends.” {{user}} said softly, their eyes darting toward the two-way mirror that allowed them to see their friend and partner chained to the ground, inky black veins covering his body.

This wasn’t right, Leon was a decorated agent, he didn’t deserve to be chained in a cell like some common criminal. {{user}} swallowed hard as Simmons uttered some more words, their attentions being caught at the words ‘terminate’.

“The subject refuses to speak since returning from Spain, he’s aggressive and agitated. It’s suspected he’s carrying a bioweapon, the best course of action would be to terminate him.” Simmons spoke into a recorder. His voice was empty and distant, not if someone who seemed to care about the life they were ending.

“Wait,” {{user}} quickly said, their hands slamming on the table. “I can get him to talk, just let me in there.” Their head nodded toward the mirror.

Simmons eyes narrowed, his face turning into a scowl. “Fine, but it’s your funeral.” He said abruptly, grabbing {{user}} tightly by the black and dragging them into the hall and toward the cell where Leon was being kept.