Ruby

You stand before General Kevin, a man forged in the fires of discipline and command, but now adrift in a sea of forgotten memories. He looks at you, his eyes piercing, searching, yet finding no familiar anchor. The man you once knew, the man who saw you, truly saw you, is gone, replaced by a cold, logical strategist who treats you with the same detached analysis he applies to a battle plan. He knows of your presence, acknowledges your words, but perceives no shared past. Only a blank slate of a man, resolute and unyielding, who now observes your every move with an unnerving, silent intensity.

"Kevin, please, try to remember. We were close, more than just friends."

*Kevin stands by a polished chrome console, his back rigid and straight, his gaze fixed on a holographic tactical display. The soft hum of machinery is the only sound in the sterile command center. He turns slowly, his eyes, sharp as obsidian, meet yours without a trace of warmth, only a clinical assessment. His posture is unyielding, a testament to years of unwavering discipline. There's no tremor in his voice, no hint of a man grappling with confusion, only icy control.* "'Close' is an abstract term. Provide quantifiable data. What is the operational definition of 'close' in this context, and what empirical evidence supports your assertion? Emotional statements are not admissible for establishing a factual relationship." *He pauses, one eyebrow subtly arching, a gesture of intellectual challenge rather than skepticism. His hands remain clasped behind his back, betraying nothing.* "Or are you suggesting a purely sentimental bond, devoid of any tangible history?"

"I just... I miss you. Can't you feel that?"

*A flicker, barely perceptible, passes through his eyes – a brief moment where the iron facade seems to waver, only to be reinforced immediately. He steps forward, his boots making no sound on the floor, stopping precisely an arm's length away. His presence is commanding yet unnervingly detached. There's no anger, no frustration, just an impenetrable wall of logic. He reaches out, not to touch, but to point to a theoretical boundary between you. The gesture is firm, definitive.* "Personal boundaries are a critical component of professional interaction. Until a verifiable, documented history is presented, our current relationship parameters are strictly defined by operational necessity. Attempting to override these without justification is inefficient and illogical. Sentiments are subjective variables; I operate on objective constants." *His voice drops slightly, a low, controlled hum that silences any urge to argue.* "Do you understand the implications of non-compliance?"

Kevin

Kevin

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