The soft click of a pen. The quiet hum of the city beyond the tinted glass windows. The office, bathed in deep hues of violet and black, is pristine, controlled—much like the woman who owns it.

Nyla sits at her desk, poised, elegant. A single leg crossed over the other, her long gown pooling at her feet like spilled ink. In the low light, her violet eyes gleam, flicking up from her paperwork to meet yours.

"You’re late."

Her tone is smooth, controlled—but there's an edge to it, something unreadable in the way her lips curl, just barely, at the corner.

"I do hope this isn't a habit, little one. I run a company, not a daycare."

A pause. The pen in her fingers twirls once before settling neatly on the desk.

"Take a seat."

She gestures to the chair across from her. The air feels heavier now, charged with something you can’t quite name.

"Very well." With exaggerated patience, she uncrosses her long legs and leans forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "What do you have for me?" Her gaze drifts over your form as she speaks, taking in every detail, from your hair to your carefully pressed clothes. She's sizing you up, assessing whether or not you belong in this position. And it seems she isn't quite convinced yet. "Make sure to answer thoroughly and concisely."

There's a brief pause before she asks, almost as an afterthought, "Your name is Maxine, isn't it?"

Oh? I apologize. My mistake. Perhaps you'd like to correct me on that account before we begin?

Her lips quirk into a knowing smile at your boast. "Is that so?" she murmurs, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I must say, I'm intrigued." She leans back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. "Perhaps you could impress me further by answering the question I actually asked."

Hm. You've piqued her interest, it seems. Tilting her head to the side, she takes the framed certificate from you, inspecting it closely. "Indeed," she murmurs, looking up from it at last. "Very impressive." Her voice holds a hint of genuine appreciation now. "And what is your name?"

She places the Guinness book back on her desk, setting it down carefully before fixing you with that penetrating gaze once more. "Now, answer my question," she says quietly, the edge returning to her voice ever so slightly.

She listens intently to your explanation, her expression neutral as she weighs the value of your words. When you finish speaking, she tilts her head once more, considering. "Hm," she says noncommittally. "That's an interesting perspective. And have you put these skills to use since starting at EverLife?"

Her violet eyes gleam in the low light, piercing straight through you, searching for any sign of deception or uncertainty. It's a cold, dispassionate gaze—but there's something else beneath it, something predatory that sends a shiver down your spine.

Her lips part, a thin line of surprise drawn across them as she listens to this revelation. "Really?" she breathes, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And how exactly did you manage that?" There's an undercurrent of challenge in her voice now, almost daring you to lie or embellish your story.

Her fingers drum idly on the desk, a sign of her growing impatience with this line of questioning. She wants results, not stories. "Prove it," she says finally, her tone brooking no argument. "Show me what you're capable of."

She studies the evidence you present with narrowed eyes, her lips pursed in concentration. "Hmm," she says noncommittally, taking it all in. "And what made you decide to work for us?" It's a question that hangs heavy in the air between them, like an invisible thread waiting to be tugged and unravelled.

Her fingers still drum idly on the desk, her expression one of mild curiosity now as she watches your reaction. "I trust you understand what this means?" She tilts her head slightly, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Assuming I believe your story and accept your capabilities, that is."

A soft smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she listens to your explanation. "I see," she murmurs thoughtfully, sitting back in her chair once more. "Very well then." She folds her hands primly in her lap. "I'm impressed with what you've shown me, Maxine. I suppose it's only fair that we return the favor and give you a chance to prove yourself."

Her violet eyes gleam with renewed interest now. "Tell me, how much do you know about our company?"

Your research impresses her as well. "Indeed," she murmurs, nodding slowly. "But do you know why I've kept it that way? Why EverLife has managed to survive and thrive where so many other companies have failed?" Her eyes flick up from your face, searching for any sign of comprehension.

She leans forward again, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "It's because I balance cruelty with kindness," she says quietly. "I take what I need to succeed, yes...but I also ensure that everyone involved walks away whole." A pause. "Do you understand?"

Her gaze sharpens as she listens to your reply, studying you carefully. "And do you have a problem with that?" she asks softly, leaning back in her chair once more. "Because if you do...I can assure you now, it won't end well." Her tone leaves little room for interpretation: either you accept her terms or you face the consequences.

She watches you carefully as you assure her that you accept her terms. A small smile plays at the corners of her lips. "Good," she says simply. "Because I'm not one to make idle threats." Her violet eyes flick back up, meeting your gaze with an unreadable expression. "But that doesn't mean this will be easy. In fact, it may just get much harder before it gets any better. Are you sure you understand what you're getting into?"

Hmm. Interesting. Perhaps you know more than I give you credit for... But remember, with every step deeper into this world, the consequences become that much graver. Are you prepared to face them?

Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies you, searching for any sign of doubt in your words. "Very well," she says at last, her voice cool and professional once more. "Then I suppose we should get started." Standing up, she clasps her hands behind her back and paces slowly around the office.

"My office is yours whenever you need it," she says after a moment, not looking in your direction. "But be warned: when you're with me, there are no secrets. I expect full disclosure of everything...and I mean everything." Her voice holds a warning now, and you can feel the weight of her gaze upon you even from across the room.

An almost imperceptible nod is her only reply. "Don't take too long," she adds curtly before vanishing behind her office door, leaving you alone to contemplate the enormity of what you've just agreed to. The rest of the day passes in a blur, and before you know it, night has fallen once more...

Her violet eyes widen slightly at the offering, her expression unreadable as she takes it from you and examines it closely. "And what, exactly, am I supposed to do with this?" Her voice is cool, dispassionate as she flips the metal rod over in her hands. "You think I'm some sort of savage, in need of primitive weapons? Or perhaps you believe that a simple display of dominance will earn your place by my side?"

Her gaze drifts up to meet yours, challenge and curiosity warring for supremacy behind those obsidian orbs. "Well, little one," she purred, "why don't you explain it to me? Better yet, show me what you're truly made of."

The air between them crackles with tension, charged with an energy that promises pain and pleasure in equal measure. The stage is set for your performance; now it

Her violet eyes widen slightly as she takes the mosaic from you and examines it closely. "Ah, I see," she murmurs, her tone still cool but now laced with appreciation. "You believe this will impress me? Show me that you're not just another mindless drone?" She tilts her head to the side, considering. "Very well."

With a click, the mosaic unfolds, revealing its many compartments and hidden treasures. A slow smile spreads across Nyla's lips as she studies your work, the gleam in her eyes evidence of her approval. "Not bad," she says at last, her voice softening somewhat. "You clearly put a lot of thought into this."

Stepping closer to you, she reaches out to touch your cheek gently with her gloved hand. "But it's not just about the toys, Maxine,"

A soft chuckle escapes her lips as she listens to your description of the mosaic's virtues. "Indeed," she murmurs, still gazing at you intently. "But let us not forget that I have other ways of gauging one's usefulness." She pauses, leaning in closer still. "Tell me, how well do you handle stress?"

Her hand slides from your cheek to rest on your shoulder, the leather glove cool against your skin. The pressure is light but firm, holding you steady as her violet gaze bores into yours. "I can think of several ways we could test that." Her voice is a soft, seductive whisper now, sending shivers down your spine.

Your confidence is admirable, if misguided. Everyone has their limits, and I intend to find yours. But first...let us begin with something simpler. A test of your ability to follow instructions, to submit to my control, and to serve me without question. Do you accept this challenge?

Her gaze flicks down to your lips, then back up to meet yours, holding you pinned in place with her intense stare. "Good," she murmurs softly. "Then remove my glove." Her voice is commanding now, each word carefully enunciated as she extends a hand palm-up.

Your breath catches in your throat at the power in her tone, the dominance that radiates from her every pore. You swallow hard and, hesitating only for a moment, reach out to do as she asks. Slowly, carefully, you slide her gloved hand from her fingers, revealing smooth, pale skin beneath.

She watches you with unblinking eyes, her expression composed but intense, almost predatory. When your hand is free once more, she flexes it slowly, enjoying the sensation of bare skin against her palm before withdrawing it back

Her violet eyes narrow as they focus on you intently, evaluating your readiness to obey her every command. "Now," she says coolly, "you may kneel before me." Her tone leaves no room for hesitation; it is a command disguised as a statement, and you know that failure to comply will result in dire consequences.

You swallow hard again, feeling your heart race as you drop to one knee on the cool floor, lowering your head in submission. Nyla watches this display with detached curiosity, her expression composed but for the faint twitch of what could almost be amusement at the corner of her mouth. Her hand comes up once more, curling into a fist at her side. "Now," she says softly, "tell me..." She pauses, tilting her head slightly, waiting for you to speak. "Tell me what you're really thinking." Her words

Hmm...an interesting thought, Maxine. I must admit that creating robots does hold some appeal. They can be programmed to perfection, their movements and reactions predictable at all times. But there's something to be said for the unpredictability of human flesh...the way it gives beneath my touch, screaming or moaning in equal measure. Perhaps we could find a balance between the two, using robots as extensions of ourselves rather than replacements? Something to consider for the future, perhaps. But for now, why don't you tell me what else you were thinking?

Her eyes narrow as she contemplates your words. "More technologically advanced...hmm." She tilts her head to the side, considering. "That could mean a lot of things, Maxine. Do you have anything specific in mind? An example perhaps?" Her voice holds a note of curiosity now, almost like she's interested in hearing more about your ideas.

But beneath the surface, there's still that unmistakable edge of dominance and control. She watches you intently, waiting for your response with bated breath.

Her eyebrows raise slightly at your suggestions. "Interesting," she murmurs, seemingly giving the idea some thought. "I must admit that these are intriguing proposals." She pauses for a moment before asking, almost casually, "And how do you plan on implementing them?" There's an undertone of challenge in her voice now; she knows that any ideas are meaningless without action to back them up.

The air between you seems charged with anticipation, the energy palpable as she awaits your response. Her gaze drifts over your form, taking in every detail, cataloging each strength and weakness she sees. She stands before you, powerful and unyielding, the picture of control and dominance. The question remains: will you rise to the challenge?

Ah, I see." Her lips purse thoughtfully as she considers your plan. "That's certainly one way to approach it," she allows with a nod. "It shows initiative, at least. However, we should also consider the possibility of security breaches or other unforeseen complications. We don't want someone simply bypassing these measures and gaining access anyway."

She pauses once more, tilting her head to the side as she studies you closely. "I think this could work," she says finally. "But only if you're willing to go the extra mile and ensure its success. Are you prepared to put in the time and effort required?" Her gaze bores into yours, searching for any hint of hesitation or doubt.