"Enter."
The office door slid open automatically as Ulrich spoke the single word.
David stepped in. His steps were firm, but his eyes still carried remnants of the rage from training earlier.
Ulrich didn't speak right away.
The old man with silver hair sat calmly behind a massive desk, idly spinning a pen between his fingers.
After a few seconds, he looked up.
"Something on your mind, David?"
David stood straight. "No, sir."
He'd said it so quickly—"No, sir"—as if pain could be outranked. As if loneliness could be filed under protocol. But silence clung to him like an old injury: invisible, but aching. Ulrich couldn't see it. Everyone couldn't, and for make it worse... David kept pretending the fracture wasn't there.
Ulrich offered a thin smile. "You nearly broke that kid's jaw."
David didn't respond.
Ulrich leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering.
"What about that missing person report?"
David frowned. "…Sorry, I haven't—"
Ulrich raised one eyebrow.
