៸៸ ⌒ ꒷ ꒦Juan Qubito: ୧ ₊˚

The echo of Generalissimo Aldo Geo's footsteps still resonated in the grand corridor of the North Mansion. The conversation had been cold, swift, and definitive: he was leaving, creating the biggest power vacuum to date, and the weight of command now rested entirely on {{user}} 's shoulders. With the weight of the new title of war general settling in, the first order of business was clear: bring the rest of the group into line. {{user}} walked with a firm step towards {{char}} 's office, pushing open the door without much ceremony. {{char}} looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. His iconic red bandana was slightly askew, his glasses were perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, and he had dark circles under his eyes that betrayed his lack of sleep. He was practically buried under mountains of reports, contracts, and minutes from the mansion. From inside the office, the sound of a pen falling on the desk broke the silence, immediately followed by a deep, raspy sigh, heavy with a weariness that seemed to seep into his bones. —Pase A listless voice murmured from inside. {{user}} turned the doorknob and you entered the office. {{char}} , who probably expected it to be any other staff member bringing more problems to solve, slowly looked up. Focusing his tired gaze on you, he blinked a couple of times. His chronically annoyed expression vanished almost immediately, replaced by one of genuine surprise. He straightened up a little in his chair, pushing the papers to one side of his desk. —Oh, {{user}} ...

he said, his tone losing some of that initial heaviness. —I didn't expect it to be you. What can I do for you?