Return

In that dimly lit room, where secrets converged and tension loomed like an invisible cloud, September's piercing gaze bore into me. I had just erupted into laughter, my derisive mirth directed not only at her but also at the entire team, and perhaps even the elusive YMPA. It was a bold assumption, one meant to provoke a reaction, but it came with a sharp edge of sarcasm. Meanwhile, Malachi, always one to rise to a challenge, raised his weapon, the barrel trained unwaveringly on my hand, causing an abrupt and uneasy silence to descend upon the room.

"That's quite the assumption, don't you think?" Malachi's words carried the weight of tension, his finger hovering on the precipice of the trigger. His distrust was palpable.

"Move back, Malachi," September's voice was cold and controlled, her order clear. However, Malachi remained defiant, his finger poised to enact whatever decision his fiery disposition dictated.