Two days passed before they ca for him.
One mont Xavier was in the middle of a routine work cycle, the next a system directive flashed and a guard drone tagged him for escort. No explanation was given, which imdiately made the possibilities start lining up in his head.
Xavier hadn’t been expecting it, which was exactly why it bothered him. This place loved patterns, loved routines, and loved pretending everything was predictable. Being pulled out without warning ant soone had made a decision sowhere, and decisions were always worse than procedures.
As he was escorted down the corridor, his mind ran through the options whether he wanted it to or not. Maybe they finally noticed him poking around where he shouldn’t. Maybe Rin had talked to the wrong person. Maybe Klatos’s quiet questions had reached ears that pretended not to listen. Or maybe this was simpler than that, and they just wanted him alone in a room to see how much pressure it took before he cracked.
Torture crossed his mind, not dramatically, just practically. He dismissed it just as fast. This prison liked control too much to get sloppy with pain, and sloppy was what torture always beca. Still, being summoned ant leverage was about to be tested.
The interrogation room was smaller than the one he’d been in before, built for conversation rather than restraint. Cleaner too. No visible restraints. No tools laid out for intimidation. Just a table, two chairs, and a wall that definitely had more eyes in it than it admitted to. Xavier sat down and waited, letting his body settle like he wasn’t already cataloging exits, angles, and blind spots.
A few minutes passed before the door opened, and the supervisor walked in.
Xavier noticed her before his brain bothered assigning aning to it, because she didn’t look like soone who belonged in a place like this. She was tall enough that her presence filled the room without effort. Her body was tight in a way that ca from discipline, not fragility, with long legs that moved with confidence and hips that the uniform did nothing to hide. The fabric clung to her like it had been tailored specifically for her instead of issued, pulled snug across her waist and chest, every line sharp and intentional.
Her jacket fit close, outlining the curve of her breasts without exaggeration, the material stretched just enough that it stopped pretending this was purely professional attire. Her pants sat high on her hips, hugging her thighs cleanly, every step drawing the eye whether she ant it to or not. Anyone with a pulse would have noticed, and anyone pretending not to was lying.
Her face was striking in a way that didn’t rely on softness. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, lips full enough to stand out even without the dark lipstick she’d chosen. Her eyes were steady and direct, the kind that held contact longer than necessary, not to intimidate, but because she expected people to look away first. Her hair was styled neatly, pulled back with precision, not a strand out of place, making it obvious this wasn’t a rushed decision. Every strand was in place.
Her face had makeup on it, subtle but intentional, eyeliner sharp, lipstick dark enough to draw the eye without screaming for attention. It was the kind of effort nobody put in unless they wanted to be noticed.
And she slled good. Not recycled air, not antiseptic, not tal and ozone like everything else in this place. Sothing sweet and expensive, the kind of scent that lingered and made a point of doing so.
Xavier noticed all of it imdiately, and the fact that he noticed it irritated him more than anything else.
She closed the door behind her and took her ti walking to the chair across from him, her boots clicking softly against the floor. She sat down and crossed her legs, the motion slow enough to be obvious without being theatrical, her posture relaxed in a way that didn’t belong in an interrogation room.
She had dark hair, almost black, with a natural sheen to it, pulled back tight at the sides and gathered neatly behind her head, leaving her neck exposed in a way that felt intentional rather than practical. A few shorter strands frad her face just enough to soften the severity of the style without making it look careless.
Her eyes were a deep hazel, the kind that shifted depending on the light, sotis brown, sotis green, always sharp and alert.
Her skin was smooth and warm-toned, unmarked, the kind that made it obvious she took care of herself even in a place where most people stopped trying. Combined with the fitted uniform, the makeup, and the way she carried herself, she looked like soone who knew exactly what effect she had and didn’t need to exaggerate it.
"Well," Xavier said, eyes lifting to et hers, "either this interrogation got a new budget, or soone’s trying very hard to make a point."
Her lips curved faintly, not quite a smile. "You noticed."
"It would’ve been concerning if I didn’t." Xavier leaned back slightly and looked at her. "So," he said, "are you here to threaten or seduce ?"
She smiled, and this ti it wasn’t professional. "Straight to the point," she said. "I was told you’re like that."
"I get bored easily," Xavier replied. "Especially when people dress up like this and pretend it’s still business."
Her eyes flicked over him, taking in the bandages on his face, the way he sat like the chair didn’t matter, like the room wasn’t really holding him. "You don’t look like soone who scares easily," she said.
"I already survived your missile," Xavier replied. "You’re going to need a better opener."
Am I here because you want a confession, or because you want to threaten with sothing else this ti?"
She leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on the table, her neckline shifting just enough to make the move intentional. "This isn’t about getting you to confess," she said. "And it’s not about punishing you either."
Xavier raised an eyebrow. "Then you’re doing the interrogation wrong."
She smiled again. "No," she said. "We’re just doing it honestly."
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