Rule 7 : Rage

CHAPTER 7: Lurked Threshold.

The man exuded an air of quiet authority. His polished shoes gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, and the sharp lines of his tailored suit spoke of boardrooms and billion-dollar deals. A hint of a playful pattern on his tie, barely visible beneath his strong chin, hinted at a dry wit that might lie beneath the corporate facade.

A carefully structured jawline framed his face, and his hands, adorned with finely crafted tattoos, rested casually at his sides. Moving with measured steps, he fixated on the rhythmic pulse of machines. In an unexpected turn, he executed a swift about-face, his gaze disappearing into the shadows of the room.

"Back to life?" Zayn's consciousness unfurled like the petals of an enigmatic bloom. The man's voice, a resonant whisper, echoed in the chamber, eliciting an almost imperceptible twitch in Zayn's hands.

Approaching Zayn's bedside, Dr. Martini declared, "365 days have passed; he has finally emerged from his slumber," her authority resonating through the chamber, imprinting certainty.

"Can he speak?" Lord Maximus's abrupt inquiry demanded explanation.

Zayn, uncertain of the unfolding events, continued gesturing to Dr. Martini, conveying his consciousness and desire to communicate. Attempting to speak, his words were incoherent, yet Dr. Martini discerned faint whispers.

"It seems he might soon articulate his thoughts," Dr. Martini observed.

Lord Maximus quirked an eyebrow, remarking, "Zayn, that name sounds rather bland, doesn't it?" His scrutinizing gaze lingered.

The men who stood at the door strode in purposefully, adorned in an ensemble of mystery—black shirts, suits hugging their well-built body frames, paired with dark trousers, shoes, and fascinating black eyeglasses.

Towering, well-built, and undeniably commanding, they flanked Lord Maximus with silent authority.

Addressing them, Lord Maximus declared, "Zayn is awakening. If he forgets his name, it serves us. But if he remembers, it works to our advantage."

In the charged atmosphere, one of the men, Hardin, dared to voice his strategic concerns to Lord Maximus. "Lord, should these Arabs refuse our alliance for a safer path, perhaps we should..."

Lord Maximus ruthlessly interrupted, his voice slicing through the thick air. "I didn't ask for your opinion, Hardin. Depart!" He vanished instantly.

As the tension hung like an unsolvable riddle, Zayn shattered the deep silence, gently inquiring, "Where am I?" The nurse, adorned with a cryptic smile, replied, "You're amidst reality and secrets, Zayn."

"That's my name," Zayn affirmed. A sly smile graced Dr. Martini's lips; he remembers his name. In a moment of revelation, Lord Maximus interjected, "Shadowsong already mentioned it. No need."

With measured steps, Lord Maximus withdrew, and the other man silently trailed, leaving the room steeped in lingering secrets.

Zayn whispered mysterious words as he lightly touched his face. Dr. Martini settled gracefully nearby, her closeness . "How do you feel now?" she asked, gently stroking her hair while observing his response.

"Is this a hospital?" Zayn queried.

"Yes, indeed," Dr. Martini replied, warmth in her smile.

As Zayn absorbed his surroundings and Dr. Martini's presence, he drifted into a serene slumber.

Dr. Martini and Nurse Shadowsong exchanged smiles as they observed Zayn. The rhythmic pulse of the machines continued, casting a soothing spell in the room.

Dr. Martini rose, instructing Nurse Shadowsong to stay. Swiftly walking to the room's exit, she approached an elevator that smoothly opened upon her arrival. Stepping inside, she adjusted her coat and initiated the elevator's ascent.

Arriving at a hallway, Dr. Martini navigated until another elevator, now ascending on its own. Reaching the top, it revealed a dimly lit corridor, motion sensors illuminating her journey.

Purposefully, Dr. Martini traversed this clandestine path, her anticipation growing tangible as she halted before a mystifying wall.

From her pocket emerged a card, wielded like a key, activating a sequence that revealed the concealed passage. Stepping through, she entered a vast sanctuary, a realm where modern elegance knitted with sophistication.

This space, a symphony of grandeur, mumured of adventures and boundless opportunities within its tranquil beauty.

Before a high-tech sensor door guarded by sharp-suited corporate guards, Dr. Martini exchanged a silent yet affirmative nod, triggering the door's opening.

Beyond this threshold lay not merely an office but a realm emanating professional elegance, each detail hinting at mysteries.