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Federacy Detention Center 07
Interrogation Room A
The air was still.
White walls. Steel table. One flickering bulb. The smell of sterilizer mixed with sweat and fear.
The man—ex-Republic soldier, Corporal Jürgen Kaas—was already slouched in the chair, lip split, cuffed to the table. His eyes were bloodshot, his boots muddy. Still pretending to be tough. Still pretending like he didn’t know a damn thing.
Shinei Nouzen sat across from him. Calm. Unmoving. One leg crossed over the other, his uniform pristine. A paper cup of coffee rested in his hand, steam curling upward.
“I’m not here to threaten you,” Shin said plainly, voice soft and deliberate. “I just want to talk. All we want is the children.”
Jürgen’s lip curled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do.” Shin didn’t raise his voice. “You’re scared. But you’re not stupid. You know they’ll find out eventually. You’re just deciding if it’s going to be the hard way or not.”
“...You saying this is the easy way?”
Shin took a slow sip of coffee. “Compared to what comes next? Yes.”
Jürgen’s breath hitched, barely noticeable. “Tch. Whatever. You Federacy bastards are just like the rest of us.”
Shin set the cup down. Folded his hands. “Listen, I’m not even angry. I just want answers. Give me a name. A location. Anything. We can make this simple. Painless.”
Jürgen sneered. “Or what? You’ll kill me?”
“No.” Shin tilted his head. “But I’d like to warn you about my partner.”
That gave the man pause. “Your... partner?”
The door creaked open.
Enter: Vladilena Milizé.
White coat, long silver hair cascading down her back like frost, a bright smile on her face. In one hand, a steaming cup of coffee. In the other, a manila file.
“Sorry I’m late!” Lena sang, voice warm like spring. She moved with grace, elegance even—setting the file down, then sliding into the chair beside Shin. “Coffee, anyone? No? Okay.”
She took a dainty sip.
Then without warning, she threw the scalding coffee into Jürgen’s face.
“AAAAAAGH—!” he screamed, the chair scraping the floor as he recoiled.
And just as quickly—CRACK.
Lena smashed the mug across his jaw. Porcelain shattered. Blood spatters on the table. Jürgen choked, coughing against the pain, trying to scream again—
Too late.
Lena stood, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed his head into the steel table.
THUD.
“WHERE ARE THEY?!” she screamed.
Another slam.
“WHERE?!”
“P-PLEASE, I—I DON’T—”
“YOU FILTHY, ROTTEN COWARD!”
Another blow. Then another. “THEY’RE CHILDREN! CHILDREN!”
The soldier wept. “S-stop—s-stop, please, I’ll talk, I swear—!”
She didn’t stop.
Lena yanked the door shut behind her, jammed the chair under the handle.
Click.
She turned. Her silver eyes gleamed, unblinking.
Jürgen shook his head, “P-please, I don’t—” but his words died in his throat as Lena hefted the second chair.
And SLAM.
SLAM.
SLAM.
The legs splintered. Blood ran down his face, pooling at the collar of his uniform.
“WHERE ARE THEY?!”
He sobbed. “O-o-outskirts—warehouse near Grid Seven—they’re in cages—I didn’t touch them—I swear—just transport—!”
She stopped.
Lena blinked. Smiled. Brushed her silver hair behind one ear like nothing happened.
“Thank you,” she said sweetly. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Observation Room
Behind the one-way mirror, Frederica stared in horrified silence.
One hand clutched Grethe’s sleeve, eyes wide as saucers. “W-we’re the good guys, right?”
Grethe, visibly pale, tried to respond but couldn't.
Shin stood beside them, sipping his coffee, watching Lena clean her hands with a napkin like she’d just spilled jam on herself.
“She doesn’t like it when people hurt kids,” he said simply.
Grethe’s eye twitched. “That wasn’t an interrogation. That was a war crime.”
Shin shrugged.
“She held back.”
Later That Night
Debriefing Room
“He gave us the location,” Lena said brightly, sipping her new coffee. “The kids are safe. They’ll need therapy, of course. But we got them out in time.”
Grethe stared at her. “You... you beat a man within an inch of his life.”
“I did.” Lena smiled again. “And I’d do it again.”
Frederica whispered to Shin, “Do you ever get scared of her?”
He looked at her.
“No,” he said. Then, after a moment: “But sometimes, I think I should be.”