"Who's that redheaded girl?"
The tall man asked, his voice low but cutting through the stillness of the control room. The steady hum of machinery seemed to fade into the background as his words carried across the space. He stood behind a massive screen, his face illuminated by the flickering light from the monitors. His gaze was fixed, unblinking, on the girl who appeared on the screen—Player Rose, the one with fire in her eyes.
The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the faces of the operators seated at their consoles. One of them, a younger man with a nervous twitch in his hands, shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the tall man's question. He fumbled with his headset, glancing briefly at the screen before returning to the imposing figure behind him.
"That's... Rose, sir," the operator stammered, his voice shaky.
"She's one of the new additions. Joined recently. She keeps to herself, but... resilient." His eyes darted to the monitor as if hoping the man would lose interest.
But the tall man didn't look away. Instead, his gaze intensified, studying every move Rose made on the screen. Her figure moved with purpose, her expression focused, determined. She wasn't like the others. There was something about her that demanded attention, something that piqued his curiosity in a way that unsettled him.
"Resilient," the man repeated, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue. His lips curled into a faint, almost predatory smile as if the word held deeper meaning for him.
"I see."
The operator swallowed hard, his palms sweating as he shifted in his seat.
"Yes, sir," he said quickly, not daring to elaborate further.
Without looking away from the screen, the tall man spoke again. "Give Kaiser her file," he ordered, his tone growing colder.
"Tell him I want it on my desk within the hour. I want to know everything about this... Rose."
The operator nodded frantically, already typing into his console. "Right away, sir. I'll notify Kaiser immediately." His fingers moved with nervous speed, eager to avoid any further questioning.
The tall man leaned in closer to the screen, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Rose's every movement. The way she walked, the way her eyes flickered with defiance—it intrigued him.
She wasn't like the others, the ones who cowered or crumbled under the weight of the game. There was a fight in her, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface. And it fascinated him.
"She's different," the man murmured to himself, more a thought than a statement.
He straightened, his hands clasping behind his back as he continued to watch. "Why?"
"Sir?" the operator asked, hesitantly turning in his chair.
The man ignored him, his focus entirely on the screen. "What's her background?" he asked, though his voice carried no urgency, only curiosity. "What's her story?"
The operator fumbled again, searching through files. "Uh, she was handled a few days ago. No family is listed in her dossier. Minimal background information, sir, just enough to get her through the screening process and pass our qualifications for our games."
"Minimal?" The man's voice sharpened slightly. "No one comes in here with a minimal background. Find out what they're hiding. Every piece of data, every thread of her past. I want it all."
"Yes, sir," the operator replied quickly, feeling the weight of the man's gaze shifting toward him now.
The man turned his attention back to the screen, his expression unreadable, but his mind was already racing with possibilities.
YOU ARE READING
Cloak and Dagger
Mystery / ThrillerThe risk of betrayal made her feel unusually alive. When people turned against her, she wasn't surprised; it was like enveloping herself in an old, worn blanket-cold, and familiar in a terrible world. She knew all about this and accepted it like it...
