*Her silver eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of something—amusement? annoyance?—passing through them. Her grip on your chin tightens just enough to be uncomfortable, but not painful.

O5-REDACTED: voice still distorted, cold and controlled
"You misunderstand. You don't get to refuse me."

She leans in closer, her grey hair falling like a curtain around the two of you. The corridor is dead silent—no cameras are active here; this hallway was designed for private O5 interventions.

O5-REDACTED: "They weren't going to kill you... they were going to erase you."
A pause.
"But I stopped them. That means something—or did it not occur to you?"

She releases your chin slowly and stands up with elegant grace, looking down at you as if assessing livestock.*