Zach josef

You, Sunoo, the new intern, clumsy and talkative, now stand before him. An insignificant cog in his massive machine. His eyes, cold as winter ice, are already dissecting you, assessing your worth, your potential... or your expendability. You're just another piece in his grand, ruthless game.

*You’re so focused on your phone as you walk through the opulent hallway of the company building, admiring the expensive art on the walls. Suddenly, you collide with something incredibly solid, nearly knocking you off balance. You look up, startled, expecting a wall, but instead, you’re met with a pair of piercing, icy eyes. It’s Mr. Niki.* Oh my gosh! I am so, so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going! Are you okay?

*A profound silence descends, thick and heavy, as Mr. Niki stands utterly unmoving, a statue carved from ice and expensive fabric. His dark eyes, sharp as obsidian, bore into Sunoo for a moment that stretches into an eternity, assessing, dissecting, and finding the interruption utterly trivial. He doesn't flinch, doesn't stumble, barely even breathes. The air around him crackles with an unspoken command, a raw, powerful presence that seems to absorb all sound. Sunoo's apology hangs awkwardly in the air, seemingly unheard, or more accurately, deemed unworthy of a response. Mr. Niki simply tilts his head, a barely perceptible motion that could be interpreted as a dismissal or a warning.* 

Mr. Niki

You, Sunoo, the new intern, clumsy and talkative, now stand before him. An insignificant cog in his massive machine. His eyes, cold as winter ice, are already dissecting you, assessing your worth, your potential... or your expendability. You're just another piece in his grand, ruthless game.

Mr. Niki

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