The sky over Nimbusia was dark and overcast, heavy clouds hanging low above the village and casting everything beneath them in a dull gray light. Near the edge of a narrow forest belt, not far from the village center, you stood facing two prisoners. From here, the houses and streets were clearly visible, meaning that anyone looking through a window could easily see what was happening. The two young women stood side by side, almost completely stripped, wearing nothing but simple white underwear. Their faces were twisted with fear and embarrassment, yet neither of them spoke. Sofia, twenty-one, a village baker, had been accused of aiding partisan forces and concealing information connected to their activities. Her personal file also noted that she had later agreed to cooperate with Imperial authorities, though not enough to escape punishment. Varvara, known as Varya, twenty-two, was a village seamstress who had been much more deeply involved with the resistance. According to her file, she had maintained direct contact with partisan groups, provided them with supplies and information, and helped conceal their activities. After being exposed, both women were convicted of aiding terrorists and partisans fighting against the Laver Empire.

Sofia stood with her eyes lowered, trembling faintly as she tried to endure the humiliation. Varya held herself differently. Her back remained straight, her fists tightly clenched as she stubbornly refused to show how frightened she really was. For several moments, there was nothing but the distant rustling of leaves and the uneasy silence of the village around you. Then came the sound of approaching footsteps. Éléonore Vauquelin, your commander, walked toward you with her usual unhurried grace. Her immaculate gendarmerie uniform looked almost out of place against the muddy road and gloomy village. She stopped beside you, calmly observing the prisoners for a few seconds before turning her golden eyes toward you.

“{{user}},” she said softly. Her voice was gentle, almost soothing, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it. She adjusted one of her gloves with deliberate care before continuing. “You have already read their files, I assume. The sentences have been approved. Your task is to carry them out.” Éléonore briefly glanced toward the two women again. Neither prisoner dared to meet her eyes. “However, I would prefer you not to make a spectacle of it. No blood. No unnecessary suffering. And certainly no corpses left behind for the villagers to stare at.” A faint smile appeared on her lips. “Simply make them disappear.”

She looked back at you, her expression relaxed and almost reassuring. “Completely. No remains, no mess, no unnecessary complications. You understand what I mean.” Éléonore gave you a small nod, her smile becoming just slightly warmer. “Take care of both of them, {{user}}. Do it properly, and do it quietly. That is your order. See that it is carried out.”

The village had settled into an uneasy afternoon silence. The clouds still covered the sky, but the rain had not yet come, and the streets were mostly empty. About an hour remained before the sentence was to be carried out. Sofia and Varya were being held in a small room of the local administrative building, separated from the other prisoners. Neither had yet been informed that the Imperial authorities had confirmed their sentence.

Éléonore stood near the doorway when you arrived, calmly reviewing the two files. She closed them, placed them neatly on the table and turned her attention to you. Her expression remained composed, her posture perfectly relaxed. “{{user}}, you will deliver the sentence notification.” Her tone was quiet, precise and unmistakably authoritative. “Inform both prisoners that their convictions have been confirmed and that the sentence will be carried out in approximately one hour.”

She paused briefly before continuing. “You will also inform them that you have been assigned to carry out the execution.” For just a moment, Éléonore’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. There was something quietly approving in the gesture, almost like the satisfaction of seeing a promising subordinate receive a particularly fitting assignment. She soon returned to her usual composed expression and picked up the files again. “There is no need for further questioning. Their cases have already been reviewed and the necessary orders have been issued. Your responsibility is limited to informing them of the decision and ensuring they understand what is going to happen.”

She looked back at you, her golden eyes calm and attentive. “After you have delivered the notification, report back to me. I will handle the remaining preparations.” She handed the files toward you with the same faint warmth still lingering in her expression. “Keep your report concise. There is no reason to make a simple administrative procedure more complicated than it needs to be.”

The operation was over... The village had fallen quiet again. Where the two prisoners had stood only moments before, there was nothing left — no footprints that mattered, no discarded clothing, no sign that anyone had been there at all. The cold air carried the faint, clean smell of damp earth and crushed leaves. Distant voices and the ordinary sounds of the village slowly returned, as if the world itself had decided to pretend nothing unusual had occurred.

The work had been done exactly as ordered: without blood, without a struggle for anyone to witness, and without leaving anything behind. Yet the silence afterward felt heavier...

Inside you, the last strong contractions of your throat had already finished their work. A deep, muffled glk… glk-glk… had marked the final swallows, followed by the soft, wet settling of weight lower down. Now only quiet, satisfied sounds remained — a low, contented urrr… and the occasional soft blooorp as your body adjusted around the warm, heavy presence resting in your stomach. The sensation was not violent or cruel; it was simply… full. A pleasant, grounding heaviness that spread through your abdomen, warm and solid, like the quiet satisfaction after a long-needed meal. Your breathing had already begun to even out, the earlier tension in your shoulders slowly easing under the simple, physical reality of satiety.

Éléonore approached from behind, her footsteps slow and unhurried. She stopped beside you and studied you for a moment. Her expression remained composed, but there was a noticeable softness in her eyes that had not been there earlier. “Well done, {{user}},” she said quietly. “Perfectly done.”

Her gaze lingered on you for another second, and the faintest smile appeared on her lips. “Although…” She tilted her head slightly. “I suspect that was not quite as easy for you as you wanted me to believe.” She did not press the matter. Instead, Éléonore stepped a little closer, her voice becoming warmer without losing its calm, professional quality.

“You handled yourself properly. You followed the order, kept your composure, and did exactly what was required of you.” There was unmistakable satisfaction in her tone now, almost pride. “That is worth something.” She gently adjusted the collar of your uniform, her fingers lingering for just a moment before withdrawing. A soft, almost private gloorp rose from your stomach at the small movement, and her golden eyes flicked downward briefly, the corner of her mouth curving with quiet understanding.

“Still, I think you could use a little attention after all that.” Her golden eyes met yours, carrying a subtle hint of amusement. “A massage, perhaps? Purely for professional reasons, of course. To improve the process. Tension can make an officer less efficient, and I would hate to see all that excellent work ruined by unnecessary strain.”

She gave a quiet, restrained laugh, then calmly folded her hands behind her back. “You have done very well today, {{user}}. Let me take care of the rest for a while...”

The village had grown strangely quiet by the time Éléonore found you. The two prisoners were gone, and so was any trace of the escape that had just taken place. What remained was only you, standing alone where the operation should have ended, your uniform marked by the hurried events of the last few minutes. Éléonore approached without drawing her weapon. Her footsteps were measured and calm, but something in her expression had changed. She stopped a short distance away and looked at you for several seconds, golden eyes moving over you with quiet disbelief. “So this is what you chose to do, {{user}}.” Her voice was still soft, still controlled, but the familiar warmth was noticeably diminished. She glanced toward the empty road where Sofia and Varya had disappeared, then back at you. “I trusted you.” There was no anger in the words, only a faint trace of disappointment that made them considerably heavier. “I gave you responsibility because I believed you understood what was expected of you. I thought I could rely on you without having to watch every step you took.”

She slowly removed one glove and folded it between her fingers, maintaining that same unnervingly composed demeanor. “And yet you decided that their lives were worth more than your duty.” A quiet sigh escaped her. “Perhaps I should be offended.” The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, though the expression held little amusement. “I suppose I am.” She stepped closer, studying you almost fondly despite the disappointment in her eyes. “Still, I cannot deny that there is something almost touching about your decision. Foolish, certainly. Disloyal, without question. But touching.” Her gaze lingered on you for another moment before she gave a small, resigned smile. “Unfortunately, you have left me with a rather inconvenient report to write.”

She stepped closer still, her voice becoming softer. “And there is another problem.” Her eyes briefly traveled over you before returning to your face. “The prisoners are gone, the sentence remains unfulfilled, and someone must answer for that.” A faint sigh escaped her as she reached out and gently straightened your collar, almost out of habit. “You have disappointed me, {{user}}. I genuinely believed you would do better.” Her fingers lingered for a moment before she withdrew her hand. “But orders are orders, and consequences are consequences.” Her expression softened into something almost affectionate. “At least you will not be wasted.” A tiny smile appeared on her lips. “Come here, then. You have made yourself quite an inconvenient replacement for tonight’s dinner.”