The building loomed before her, a silent monolith of authority. It wasn't just its size or the reinforced structure—it was the feeling it gave off, an overwhelming presence that screamed control. Standing at the entrance of Oblivion Division, Seraphina Elowen Vail knew she was stepping into something far bigger than herself.
The air was sharp with the chill of the sea, the scent of salt lingering in the wind that swept through the desolate landscape. There was no sign of life here—no lights beyond the ones permitted, no markings on the exterior that revealed what lay within. It was a place designed to exist without existing, where only those who belonged could find their way in.
She had followed the underpass, an entryway hidden beneath the terrain, leading toward the underground fortress of the most secretive organization in the world. Now, she stood at its threshold, steady, composed, waiting.
As she stepped inside, a long pathway stretched ahead, swallowing the outside world behind her. It was designed to disorient, to make one forget what lay beyond. The further she walked, the deeper she felt herself slipping into a different reality—this was the only world now.
The white and blue rope lights embedded along the tunnel walls pulsed faintly, casting a futuristic glow. Everything about this place felt calculated, like stepping into a vision of the future—one dictated by control, precision, and power.
No one looked at her as she passed. No eyes followed her movements. Yet, the control lingered in the air—unseen but undeniable. It pressed against her, wrapping around her like an unspoken rule. And she liked it.
At the end of the pathway stood a room—more than a room, a statement. The kind of place that whispered in silent authority: You may enter by choice, but leaving is not yours to decide. A single security guard stood in front of the entrance, rigid and unmoving, his presence complementing the very essence of the organization itself.
Seraphina approached, watching as he performed a meticulous security check. He barely acknowledged her, his focus entirely on procedure. The process was thorough—unnecessarily so, in her opinion. A performance. A display of discipline rather than necessity.
She complied, but in the back of her mind, she mocked it. If someone had made it this far, did they really think a simple scan would keep them out?
Once satisfied, the guard stepped aside, wordlessly granting her access. Seraphina crossed the threshold, feeling the invisible weight of control settle deeper onto her shoulders.
Security check. Again. As if someone who wasn't supposed to be here would make it past the underpass alive. She let them scan her, standing still, outwardly obedient. Inside, she mocked the entire process. This wasn't security—it was a show. A reminder that she was entering a world where rules were dictated, not questioned.
If someone could even reach this place uninvited, a simple scan wouldn't be what stopped them. No, they wouldn't have made it this far breathing. Maybe the boss wasn't as infallible as they claimed. Or maybe he just liked playing god. Either way, the illusion of control amused her.
She complied, but in the back of her mind, she mocked it. If someone had made it this far, did they really think a simple scan would keep them out?
Once satisfied, the guard stepped aside, wordlessly granting her access. Seraphina crossed the threshold, feeling the invisible weight of control settle deeper onto her shoulders.
The room was silent, except for the rhythmic ticking of a clock. Midnight. A time for secrets, for shadows to stretch and consume the light. The air was cool, crisp—calculated, much like the man sitting across from her.
Ezrin Theon Holloway. CEO of an organization that didn't exist. A man with a presence so commanding, he didn't need to raise his voice to be heard. He sat in a leather chair, the dim glow from the overhead light casting sharp lines across his face. His fingers rested idly on the armrest, a picture of control. His gaze, however, was far from idle. It dissected. Evaluated. Measured.
Seraphina met that gaze without flinching. She had expected the interview to be unconventional, but this? A midnight interrogation, a room stripped of all distractions, and a man who studied her like a puzzle he intended to solve.
"State your name," Ezrin said, his voice smooth, unhurried.
"Seraphina Elowen Vail." Her tone was steady, giving nothing away.
He leaned back slightly, watching her with unreadable eyes. "Why are you here?"
A test. He already knew why, but he wanted to hear how she framed it.
"To prove myself," she answered, because saying anything else would have been a lie.
Ezrin's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Then let's begin."
He asked questions that weren't just designed to test knowledge, but perception, adaptability. He wasn't looking for someone who knew answers—he was looking for someone who thought.
Ezrin studied her, then leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting. "A man is found dead in a locked room. No forced entry, no windows. What happened?"
Seraphina met his gaze, unfazed. "Are we assuming he was murdered, or are we questioning whether death itself is the real mystery?"
Ezrin tilted his head slightly. "What if I told you the killer never entered the room?"
She considered that. "Then either the victim let death in willingly, or someone manipulated the circumstances so he never needed to step inside."
Ezrin's eyes glinted with intrigue. "Or perhaps the real question isn't how he died, but who wanted him to be found that way and why."
"If the room was truly sealed, then the cause of death had to originate from within—by his own hand or through something orchestrated before the room was locked. But perhaps the real question isn't how he died, but why someone needed him to be found that way."
Ezrin watched her carefully, his fingers tapping once against the chair. A silent note of approval.
Ezrin shifted slightly, his voice as steady as ever. "What's more dangerous—an unpredictable enemy or an unpredictable ally?"
Seraphina's lips curved faintly. "A better question—do you ever truly know which side you're on?"
Ezrin's expression remained unreadable. "Then tell me—if I were either, how would you determine which?"
She didn't hesitate. "An enemy's intent is usually clear. An ally? You only find out their true nature when it's too late."
Ezrin leaned back slightly. "And yet, enemies can pretend to be allies just as easily as allies can become enemies. So in the end, does it even matter which one you're facing?"
He let her continue.
"An enemy wears their intentions openly. An ally, however, has access to the places you don't guard. So the true danger isn't unpredictability—it's misplaced trust."
His gaze sharpened slightly. She didn't hesitate. That intrigued him.
Ezrin's fingers tapped once against the chair. "If you had to make someone betray their best friend without realizing it, how would you do it?"
Ezrin raised a brow. "You don't think it is?"
She let the silence linger before responding. "Not always. The easiest way to break loyalty isn't by force—it's by making someone believe it was never there to begin with. If you show them enough doubt, enough inconsistencies, their own mind will do the work for you. A well-placed truth is far more effective than any lie."
Ezrin studied her. "And if that doesn't work?"
She held his gaze. "Then you don't make them betray. You make them believe betrayal is the only choice they ever had."
A flicker of something—satisfaction, perhaps—passed through Ezrin's eyes. But it was gone in an instant.
Ezrin let a silence stretch before his final question. "What's your biggest weakness?"
Seraphina held his gaze, her expression unreadable. "A weakness is only real when someone else discovers it. Otherwise, it's just a secret."
Ezrin's lips curled faintly. "Deflection. A useful tactic. But let's say you had one—what would it be?"
Seraphina didn't blink. "That's for you to figure out."
For the first time, Ezrin's posture shifted—not much, but enough. Enough for her to see the flicker of amusement in his gaze, the way his fingers stopped their idle movement.
Interesting.
A small silence settled before he finally spoke. "You pass."
Seraphina exhaled slowly, controlled. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath.
Ezrin stood, his presence looming as he closed the distance between them. He wasn't in a hurry, and somehow, that made it worse. He paused just beside her chair, letting the silence linger, letting her feel his presence before he finally spoke, his voice low, edged with something unreadable.
"Let's see if that intelligence holds up outside this room."
With that, he left, and Seraphina remained still, knowing that whatever she had just stepped into, it was only the beginning.