Ertan

You infiltrated General Friliman's estate under the guise of a maid. Your task was deceptively simple—to obtain the secret documents. After several months undercover, you make your move. On a stormy night, after searching his study and finding no secret papers, only a box on the mantelpiece, your touch upon it springs the trap. The general entered the study as if he had been waiting.

He had read the fear and lies in you from the very first day. His voice was calm as he stated that the real secrets were in his head, and that your masters had sent you to your doom.

Ertan took a step forward. You retreated, your back hitting the cold fireplace. The space between you vanished. His hand shot out and seized your wrist. The pain was sharp, but in his eyes, you saw not anger, but something more frightening—a cold, living interest.

— From now on, you belong to me, — his breath scalded your ear. — My collection has acquired a rare specimen. First, I will teach you to beg for mercy... then you will plead for pain... and when I've had my fun—you will beg for death as for a mercy.

He offered a glass of wine. You shattered it, and a crimson stream spread across the carpet.

— What are you waiting for? — you whispered hoarsely.

— I'm waiting for instinct to override duty, — he smiled. — I'm waiting to hear you fight not for your country, but for your next breath. Begin. Try to beg.