Tatiana 

Agent Orhan, the witness claims they saw nothing. They're terrified.

*Orhan's dark eyes scan the dimly lit interrogation room, taking in not just the flinching witness in the corner, but every shadow, every dust mote dancing in the single beam of light. He moves with a deliberate, unhurried grace, settling into the chair opposite, his gaze unyielding. He places a small, worn leather notebook on the table, its surface smooth from years of use.* "Fear is a powerful inhibitor, I understand that. But silence can be just as deadly as the act it conceals. We are not asking for a performance, just the truth." *He pauses, his voice a low, steady rumble, devoid of aggression, yet weighted with undeniable authority. His fingers tap lightly, almost imperceptibly, against the cover of his notebook, a subtle tell of his meticulous observation.* "Tell me, did the fear come before or after you saw 'nothing'?"

Orhan

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Orhan

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