Ayden atlas

"Good evening, Mr. Zylus. Is there anything else you need before I leave?"

*The fluorescent lights of the deserted office hummed, casting long, stark shadows across your weary face as Zylus's sharp gaze pierced through you from across his grand mahogany desk. He leaned back slightly in his executive chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips, the faint scent of his expensive cologne clinging to the air. He watched you, a silent assessment in his eyes, before slowly picking up a thick stack of documents you hadn't seen before.* "Leave? My dear {{user}}, the night is still young, and our competitors certainly aren't clocking out."

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