Resurgence of the Depths || ☆BSD x Furina!Reader☆ [Yanderevers.]

Chapter Seven: Fyodor's Intentions

      The next evening arrived with a tension that seemed to settle into the very walls of the base. Y/N sat in her room, heart heavy with dread. She hadn’t seen Fyodor since their last conversation, but his words had not left her mind: “You will stay by my side. In time, you will understand why.”

What did he mean? What role did she play in his plans?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at her door. The quiet, measured sound instantly sent her pulse racing. She knew who it was before she even opened it.

Fyodor stood there, his expression unreadable as ever, though his eyes gleamed with something darker. Without a word, he gestured for her to follow him, and Y/N, though every instinct screamed to run, obeyed. Her legs felt like lead as she walked behind him, her mind swirling with the uncertainty of what was to come.

Fyodor led her back to his office, a room that had become a place of quiet menace for her. As they entered, Y/N noticed the faint scent of something unfamiliar—perhaps incense or something else she couldn’t quite place. Fyodor gestured to the chair in front of his desk. She sat, her hands folded tightly in her lap, trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart.

For a moment, Fyodor said nothing, simply observing her with that same calculating gaze. His silence made Y/N even more anxious, the weight of his presence pressing down on her.

“I’ve been considering our next steps,” Fyodor finally said, his voice soft but laced with cold precision. “The future is drawing nearer, and you will play a part in it.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “What future?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Fyodor’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “The one I’ve always envisioned. A world free of the shackles of corruption and power, where only the strong survive.”

She knew better than to believe his words at face value. Whatever his vision was, it came at a price. And Y/N had no desire to be part of it.

“I don’t want to be involved in any of this,” Y/N said, her voice low, but determined.

Fyodor tilted his head, studying her for a moment before leaning back in his chair. “You’ve made that clear. But you don’t have a choice anymore. You’re already too involved, too valuable.”

Y/N’s hands clenched into fists. She had been prepared for more veiled threats, but this—this was different. Fyodor wasn’t just keeping her prisoner; he was planning to use her in some larger, more dangerous way.

“I won’t let you control me,” she whispered.

Fyodor’s smile widened slightly. “Ah, but control is not something you can give or take, Y/N. It’s something that happens naturally, over time. You may not realize it yet, but you’re already mine.”

The words sent a chill down Y/N’s spine. She wanted to scream, to fight, but the sheer intensity of Fyodor’s gaze held her frozen in place. He stood up and slowly made his way around the desk, his footsteps soft but deliberate. He stopped directly in front of her, his cold eyes locking onto hers.

“I don’t need to use force to make you bend,” he said, his voice so quiet it barely registered above a whisper. “You will do what I want, in time. Whether you realize it or not.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. Fyodor’s proximity was suffocating, the weight of his words sinking into her bones. She knew then that this was not a battle she could win with strength alone. It was a war of wills, a game of power—and Fyodor was a master at it.

Without another word, Fyodor turned and left the room, leaving Y/N sitting in silence, her mind racing with fear and confusion.