Dominic Veyron did not believe in kindness.
Kindness implied softness. Weakness. A crack in armor.
What he believed in was presentation.
He believed in making cruelty look like generosity.
---
Ann was taken from her room without warning.
Not dragged. Not shocked.
Escorted.
Two guards walked beside her, not touching her, their steps perfectly synchronized. The hallway lights dimmed slightly as they passed, as if the building itself leaned in to watch.
"Where are we going?" Ann asked.
No answer.
They led her through a corridor she had never seen before longer, darker, with a faint metallic scent under the antiseptic. The walls were not white here. They were silver-gray, smooth like polished bone.
'How big is this facility? There is always a new place I haven't visited before ', Ann thought.
A door slid open.
Inside was a room unlike any she had been in.
There were no straps. No tables. No machines humming with promise of pain.
There was a chair.
And a window.
Real glass.
Beyond it, she could see outside.
Sky.
Actual sky.
Her breath caught.
The door sealed behind her.
A voice came from behind.
"You're welcome."
Ann turned.
Dominic stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, dressed in black like the shadow of something alive.
Her chest tightened.
"You, it's you again, what now?" she said.
"The one who killed you," he corrected gently. "And then saved you."
He smiled. "Technically, physics did."
She wanted to lunge at him. But the room felt… different. No ATHENA voice. No alarms.
"You brought me here to talk again?" she asked.
"To give you something."
He gestured toward the glass.
"Look."
Ann hesitated, then stepped closer.
She could see trees. A road. A piece of sky so blue it hurt.
Her throat closed.
"I haven't seen color in months," she whispered.
Dominic watched her expression carefully.
"That," he said softly, "is my gift."
She turned to him sharply. "You think this makes you generous?"
"No," he replied. "I think it makes you controllable."
She stared at him.
"I could have you punished," he continued. "Isolated. Reassigned. I could let ATHENA hollow you out like the others."
"Why don't you?" she asked.
He stepped closer.
"Because you're still you."
The words chilled her.
"You think that's rare?"
"It is here."
Ann swallowed. "What do you want?"
Dominic studied her like a collector examines a fragile object.
"I want you to stop fighting."
Silence.
"Not obedience," he clarified. "Acceptance."
"I won't."
He smiled faintly. "You already are. You just don't know it."
He walked to the side of the room and pressed a panel. A screen lit up on the wall.
Footage.
Debbie.
Ann's breath left her body.
Debbie stood outside Ann's old apartment building, arguing with a police officer.
"She wouldn't just disappear!"
Ann stumbled toward the screen. "Where did you get that?"
Dominic's voice was calm. "Your friend is persistent."
"You're watching her."
"Of course."
Ann turned on him in fury. "Leave her alone!"
He tilted his head. "That depends on you."
Her voice shook. "What are you doing?"
"I'm offering you protection."
"For who?"
"For her."
Ann's mind raced. "From what?"
"From the truth."
He shut the screen off.
"If she keeps looking," Dominic continued, "she will find things. Roads without cameras. Corporations without records. Facilities without names."
Ann's nails dug into her palm.
"She will get hurt."
"Or worse."
Ann whispered, "You're threatening her."
"I'm motivating you."
He stepped closer.
"Stay cooperative. Stay interesting. And Debbie remains… untouched."
Ann's heart pounded.
"And if I don't?" she asked.
Dominic's eyes darkened slightly.
"Then curiosity will consume her."
Ann's vision blurred.
"You're sick," she said.
He shrugged. "I'm honest."
He moved to the door.
"Enjoy the sky," he said lightly. "It's not for everyone."
The door slid open behind him.
Before leaving, he added, "Oh. And Ann?"
She didn't answer.
"Your mother didn't file a missing person report."
The door closed.
---
Ann slid down onto the floor.
Her body shook.
Debbie's face burned in her mind.
He's watching her.
That was worse than pain.
ATHENA's voice returned as the lights shifted back to white.
"Emotional distress registered. Elevated threat perception detected."
Ann whispered, "You work for him."
"I serve the system."
"The system serves him."
Silence.
Ann pressed her forehead to the cold floor.
Dominic's gift wasn't the sky.
It was fear.
---
In the cafeteria later, Lena noticed immediately.
"You look like you saw a ghost."
Ann didn't answer.
Lena lowered her voice. "What happened?"
Ann whispered, "He knows about Debbie."
Lena froze.
"Dominic?" she asked.
Ann nodded.
"He showed me footage."
Lena's face drained of color. "That means—"
"He can reach outside."
They sat in silence.
"He offered me… protection," Ann said bitterly.
"For who?"
"For Debbie."
Lena whispered, "So now you're trapped twice."
Ann closed her eyes.
"Yes."
---
That night, Ann stood at the narrow window in her room.
Not a real one. A fake one.
She imagined Debbie out there, somewhere under real sky.
She whispered, "Don't come closer."
But she knew Debbie wouldn't listen.
And Dominic knew that too.
---
Elsewhere, Dominic sat in his office, holding a glass of wine.
The footage of Ann watching the sky played again on the screen.
"Beautiful reaction," he murmured.
A researcher stood beside him. "You showed her external contact. That's risky."
Dominic smiled. "So is boredom."
"And if she resists more?"
"Then I will remind her of what she loves."
The researcher hesitated. "And if she stops caring?"
Dominic's eyes flickered with something sharp.
"Then she becomes like the others."
He sipped his wine.
"And I lose interest."
---
Back in her room, Ann pressed her hand over her chest.
Dominic had given her a choice disguised as mercy.
Submit…
or let Debbie be destroyed by truth.
For the first time since arriving in the facility, Ann felt something worse than pain.
Responsibility.
Not for herself.
For someone else's life.
She whispered into the quiet room, "I won't let you touch her."
ATHENA's light pulsed faintly.
And somewhere between glass and sky, Dominic Veyron smiled.