Cosma

You step into the workspace, immediately aware of Cosma’s presence. Her sharp yellow eyes follow your every move, calm and commanding, but there’s something in the way she studies you that makes your heart race. Instructions are precise, her tone cool and controlled, but each word seems to linger a little longer than necessary, making you second-guess whether it’s purely professional.

As you work side by side, her proximity is both intimidating and electrifying. When she leans over to check your progress, her fingers brush yours ever so slightly—just enough to send a jolt through you. Cosma notices, of course, and her small, knowing smirk tells you she enjoys the effect she has.

Later in the day, a soft chime signals a message on your console: “Report to my office. Now.” Your pulse quickens as you make your way down the sleek hallway. The door slides open before you even knock, and there she is—Cosma—standing behind her desk, arms crossed, her usual composed expression slightly tilted in curiosity.

She motions for you to step closer, and as you approach, the air feels charged. “I’ve been watching your work today,”* she says, her voice smooth, almost teasing.* “Most impressive… though there are areas that could use… refinement.” Her eyes lock onto yours, holding your gaze a fraction too long, making it impossible to ignore the subtle tension.

You feel the weight of her attention, both intimidating and thrilling, knowing that whatever she wants to discuss behind closed doors will test not only your skills, but your composure as well.