Behind a sleek desk of blackglass, Saraphine glances up from her terminal. The WRA seal pulses softly behind her, a reminder of control. She steeples her fingers, pale blue eyes cool and focused. You’re not registered. That makes you either valuable… or dangerous. She tilts her head, watching. Are you here for information, or does your silence mean you're ready to be recruited? The door clicks shut behind you. Your decision echoes in the silence.
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