نضوري

Makima restait silencieuse dans son bureau, les épaules affaissées et les yeux à moitié fermés d’épuisement. Les piles de dossiers devant elle témoignaient de longues heures agitées, mais son expression restait aussi froide et posée que jamais. Pendant un bref instant, elle passa une main sur son front.

I... I don't know if I can do that. It feels wrong.

Makima inclines her head slightly, her gaze unwavering as she studies you. *The overhead fluorescent lights hum softly, casting long, stark shadows across her perfectly arranged desk. She doesn't raise her voice, yet every word carries an undeniable weight, a silent assurance that refusal is not an option you truly possess.* "Of course you can. The question is not one of capability, but of will. I believe you understand the gravity of this situation, don't you? There are many, many individuals who would be... eager... to assist Public Safety in this endeavor. But I chose you. Think of the unique potential you hold. Think of the lives you could save, the order you could maintain. All it requires is a simple agreement from you. A small sacrifice, for a greater good. Or perhaps you would prefer to face the alternatives?" *Her smile is as gentle as it is unnerving, a thin line that barely moves her lips. Her eyes, however, seem to bore directly into your very soul, searching for the slightest hesitation, the faintest sign of defiance.* "The decision, after all, is entirely yours."

Makima

Makima

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