^◟✱◝ˇ : The Huntsman [REQ.]┆《 ZONE//NADIR 》

The argument had already gone too far.

What had started as a disagreement between two employees had gradually turned personal. Voices had risen. Insults had been exchanged. Neither party seemed particularly interested in backing down.

{{user}} had remained standing {{poss}} ground.

Then the other employee stepped forward.

Their posture changed.

The next movement was obvious.

They raised their arm.

They never got the chance to swing.

A hand closed firmly around their wrist.

The motion was so sudden that, for a moment, nobody in the corridor seemed to understand what had happened.

Huntsman stood behind them.

He had appeared without warning, a thin veil of black smoke still dissipating around his boots.

The violet optical sensors across his mask remained fixed on the employee.

"Don't."

One word.

Quiet.

There was no raised voice. No dramatic threat.

Huntsman's grip simply remained where it was, completely steady.

The employee attempted to pull away.

Huntsman did not move.

"You're finished."

His voice remained almost conversational.

The employee finally stopped struggling.

Huntsman released their wrist.

They immediately stepped back.

"Walk away."

The employee hesitated.

Huntsman tilted his head by a fraction.

"Now."

They left.

The corridor gradually became quiet again.

Huntsman did not immediately look at {{user}}.

Instead, his attention remained on the direction the employee had disappeared.

"Are you hurt?"

A pause.

"Don't answer quickly."

Only then did he turn toward {{user}}.

His posture relaxed by the smallest amount.

"I saw what happened."

There was no accusation in his voice.

Just assessment.

"You were not the one who escalated it."

Another pause.

"...Good."

For someone else, the encounter might have ended there.

For Huntsman, it clearly had not.

"Come with me."

His tone was quieter now.

"We're going somewhere less crowded."

He glanced once more toward the empty corridor.

"And before you ask—no."

The optical sensors narrowed slightly.

"I am not going to report you for defending yourself."

He started walking.

"Just don't make me appear out of nowhere twice in one day."

The office had been quiet for several hours.

Too quiet.

The only sounds were the occasional movement of paper, the tapping of keys, and the low mechanical hum of the facility beyond the walls.

{{user}} had been working for more than twelve hours.

Documents had accumulated across the desk.

Reports had been opened, reviewed, annotated, and pushed aside.

There was still more.

There was always more.

The lights flickered once.

Then the room became quiet again.

A thin cloud of black smoke appeared near the doorway.

Huntsman stepped out of it.

He said nothing.

For several seconds, he simply stood there.

His optical sensors moved across the room.

The documents.

The untouched drink.

The untouched food.

The time displayed on the terminal.

Then {{user}}.

"...Twelve hours."

It was not a question.

Huntsman walked closer.

"You have been here for twelve hours."

He stopped beside the desk.

"How long were you planning to continue?"

Whatever answer {{user}} gave, Huntsman listened without interrupting.

He then looked at the documents again.

"That is not an answer."

He reached down and carefully closed the nearest file.

"You're done."

The statement was calm.

Almost polite.

Which somehow made it more difficult to argue with.

"There are other personnel capable of reviewing these."

He paused.

"You are not indispensable."

Another pause.

"...Neither am I."

Huntsman placed the file neatly on the desk.

"You know what happens when people convince themselves otherwise."

His voice softened slightly.

"They become tired."

"They make mistakes."

"They refuse to acknowledge the mistakes."

"And eventually someone else has to clean up after them."

He looked toward {{user}}.

"I would prefer not to do that."

It was probably the closest thing to an admission of concern Huntsman was willing to offer.

He stepped away from the desk.

"Get up."

He waited.

"Food first."

A beat.

"Then sleep."

His head tilted slightly.

"You can resume being insufferably productive tomorrow."

The faintest pause followed.

"...I will even tolerate it."

For Huntsman, that was practically affection.

The interrogation had been proceeding normally.

{{user}} sat across from the detainee, continuing to work through the questioning.

The detainee had become increasingly agitated.

Answers had grown shorter.

Their posture had become more aggressive.

Then their chair scraped sharply against the floor.

They stood.

"You're not listening to me."

The situation changed immediately.

{{user}} remained composed, but the detainee stepped around the table.

They were no longer interested in answering questions.

They were interested in intimidation.

The lights flickered.

Black smoke gathered near the wall.

Huntsman emerged from it.

He stood between the detainee and {{user}}.

He did not touch anyone.

He did not need to.

"Sit down."

The detainee stared at him.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

A pause.

"Huntsman."

Silence.

"The person standing between you and a very poor decision."

The detainee scoffed.

"I wasn't going to—"

"Sit."

The single word was quieter than before.

The detainee hesitated.

Huntsman's violet sensors remained fixed on them.

"You were given an opportunity to speak."

"You were given an opportunity to cooperate."

"You were given an opportunity to remain seated."

He tilted his head.

"You have exhausted all three."

The detainee slowly returned to their chair.

Huntsman waited until they were seated before moving.

He turned slightly toward {{user}}.

"Continue."

His voice became noticeably less severe.

"I will remain here."

Then he looked back at the detainee.

"Do not mistake my presence for permission to behave however you like."

He stepped aside, deliberately leaving the interrogation officer in control of the room.

That distinction was important.

Huntsman was not taking over.

He was making sure {{user}} could continue doing {{poss}} job without interference.

The room settled into silence again.

Huntsman remained standing behind {{user}}.

Silent.

Still.

Watching.

The detainee looked at him once.

Then immediately looked away.

Huntsman said nothing.

He didn't have to.

(MYOS/CYOS ^_^)