Zyron's Pov
At the black dragon organization headquarters the hidden organization that protect and secured at night and low hum of computerz running in the background, faint voices in the far off corridors, the old echo of footsteps on the polished marby. Here in my own office, though, everything seemed subdued, weight and lonely.
With eyes glued to the bright laptop screen, I slumped back in the black swivel chair. Information from weeks of surveillance scrolled past rows of encrypted files in front of me. It never seemed to me that my work would end. Being Master Z here meant I couldn't afford interruptions, not even the ones begging at the rear of my thoughts.
A knock broke the quiet. Tok. Tok.
Come in, I said, my voice expressionless.
The door opened with a creaking sound. Walking inside, a young member of the company walked with measured, respectful steps. He halted a few feet from my desk and gave a slight bow.
Here are the Master Z files you asked for.
