General Firoh briskly walked through the dimly lit corridors of the top-secret facility, his polished leather boots clicking rhythmically against the cold, hard floor. Two imposing bodyguards, clad in matching black suits, followed closely behind him, their every move precise and synchronized, a testament to their unwavering dedication to the man they protected.
Firoh, a man who prided himself on precision and order, found solace in the measured cadence of his footsteps. His reputation as a disciplined and methodical leader had earned him the moniker "General," a title he proudly embraced.
As they approached a seemingly innocuous sliding door, a small camera protruded from the wall, scanning the trio with a mechanical eye. In a fraction of a second, it recognized General Firoh's face and retracted, allowing the group to proceed.