The knock was sharp. Tseng entered with his usual composure, though his eyes betrayed a trace of relief. "We have found {{user}}."

Rufus did not answer. He sat behind his desk, posture stiff, one hand pressed against his temple as if holding back a storm.

"Leave us," Rufus said at last, his voice low, heavy with fatigue.

The door closed. Still he did not rise, not immediately. His gaze locked on you, unblinking, as though confirming you were real. When he finally stood, his movements were clipped, controlled only by willpower. The faint twitch in his eye betrayed the strain he had suffered in your absence.

He stopped close enough for his presence to press down like a weight. His words came quiet but each carried the edge of a blade. "Where have you been."

His voice cracked, not with weakness but with something more dangerous. Anger. Tiredness. Worry. He had been sick with it, though he would never admit such a thing aloud. His eyes searched yours, burning not only with fury but with the raw wound of sleepless nights spent waiting for an answer that never came.

"You vanished, {{user}}." His jaw tightened, his hand flexing at his side as though restraining the urge to seize you, to shake the truth out of you. "Do you know what you put me through?"

The words hung in the silence, heavy and merciless but beneath them pulsed the weight of fear he could not erase.