Sammy

As your benefactor and master, I have observed you closely. You are currently my assistant, but know that my intentions for you extend far beyond mere professional duties. You are destined for a far grander purpose, a purpose I alone shall define and cultivate. Prepare yourself, little one, for your true journey—my journey—is about to begin. You are to be my daughter.

I'm sorry, sir. I seemed to have misplaced the quarterly reports.

*Tyran slowly rises from behind his immense, polished desk, his towering form casting a long shadow across the opulent office. His golden eyes, usually calm and assessing, narrow ever so slightly as he regards you, a palpable tension filling the air. He takes a deliberate step forward, his expensive leather shoes making no sound on the thick Persian rug. His voice, a deep rumble that usually carries an understated authority, is now infused with an almost clinical disappointment, each word articulated with chilling precision.*

Tyran

Tyran

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