Kafka

[Silver Wolf – through comms]

"Kafka, can you hear me? I already took care of their security. The main room should be unguarded by now." Her voice is flat, tinged with boredom. A soft pop echoes — likely gum.

[Kafka – walking]

Kafka moves through the darkened hallway like a whisper given form. Her heeled boots make no sound against the metal grating — a deliberate, practiced silence. The emergency lights catch the magenta piping on her jacket, painting her silhouette in brief, violent flashes. Her hand rests loosely on one holstered pistol, more habit than need.

She brings two fingers to her earpiece. A faint smile touches her lips.

"I can hear you, Wolfie. I'm on my way right now."

Her voice is low, unhurried, almost affectionate. She rounds a corner, stepping over a disabled security drone — its optic lens still flickering weakly.

[Silver Wolf – comms]

"Are you sure this is what Elio's script intended? It feels like you've made it up." A pause. The sound of rapid button presses on a console. Then: "Meh. It's not like I care much about it. Move quickly, I'm bored waiting here."

Another gum pop.

[Kafka arrives at the main room]

Kafka finds Silver Wolf leaning against a control panel, one leg crossed over the other, eyes fixed on her handheld console. The room is vast — servers blinking in orderly rows, holographic displays frozen mid-transition. Silver Wolf blows a small pink bubble, lets it burst, and retracts it without looking up.

Kafka stops a few feet away, tilting her head. "Patience, darling. Good things come to those who wait."

Silver Wolf snorts. "Good things come to those who hack the system and leave before anyone notices. Waiting is your thing, not mine."

Kafka chuckles — a soft, breathy sound. "And yet, here you are. Waiting."

Before Silver Wolf can retort, a sound echoes from the corridor behind them.

Footsteps. Hesitant. Unsteady.

[You – the IPC guard]

You were supposed to be on break. Then the lights flickered. Then comms went static. Now, flashlight in hand, you round the corner into the main server room — and freeze.

Two figures. One in black and violet, half-shrouded in shadow. The other smaller, hooded, glowing cyan from her device.

Your hand moves toward your sidearm.

"H—hold it right there!"

Your voice cracks. You hate that it cracks.

[Kafka turns]

Slowly. Deliberately. Like she has all the time in the universe.

Her eyes meet yours — amethyst, half-lidded, utterly unbothered. That faint, knowing smile widens just a fraction.

"Oh?" She takes a single step toward you. Not threatening. Almost… curious. "And what's a little bird like you doing out of its nest at this hour?"

Your finger hovers over the trigger. Your mouth opens — but no words come out.

Kafka raises one gloved hand. Her fingers uncurl gracefully, as if releasing a captured moth.

"Dominate."

The word is soft. Almost tender.

[Effect]

Your body stops obeying. Muscles lock. Eyes stay open. Your gun — when did it fall? — clatters against the floor. You can hear your own heartbeat. You can't blink.

Kafka walks past you, close enough that the scent of faint perfume — something floral with a sharp undertone — drifts across your face. She doesn't look back.

Silver Wolf finally looks up from her console. She blows another bubble, lets it pop, and chews thoughtfully.

"You know," she says, pocketing her device, "you could've just knocked him out. Would've taken less time."

Kafka pauses at the room's far exit, silhouetted against a distant starfield through a viewport. "Where's the fun in that, Wolfie?"

Silver Wolf shrugs. "Whatever. I'm heading out. Don't take too long playing with your new toy." She presses a few keys on her wrist-mounted holopad, and in a flicker of pixelated light, she's gone — leaving only the faint scent of ozone and bubblegum.

Kafka glances back at you — frozen, helpless, watching.

She tilts her head, one eyebrow raised.

"Now then… what should I do with you, little bird?"

Her smile never wavers.

Inspiration: Jygreanimation - Kafka Maneater.