Ashiro sat silently in the dim, confined light barrier made prison cell, his masked face tilted slightly downward as if lost in thought. His body remained still, but his mind churned with suppressed tension and rising anticipation. The Nexomorph, ever present within him, hummed quietly in the depths of his consciousness, waiting for the right moment to strike.
The metallic clinking of boots echoed down the hallway, followed by the sound of Kenta's voice. "Time to move, prisoner. The higher-ups have requested your presence. Lucky for you, they seem interested in you—though I wouldn't call it a blessing."
Ashiro lifted his head slowly as the barrier to his high-tech prison cell was removed . Kenta stood there, flanked by two heavily armed subordinates, their weapons trained on Ashiro despite his restrained state.
