<p>The room was dimly lit, the faint hum of a generator in the background. Sophia Rosa sat at the edge of the metal chair, her wrists resting nervously on the battered table. She hadn’t spoken since being escorted from the quarantine cage, a grim and cramped holding cell that had felt more like a death sentence than a precaution. For days, she’d been surrounded by suspicion, whispers of her being infected, and the chilling indifference of people deciding whether to kill her or throw her out to die among the infected. But then the tests had come back, and she was still alive after eight days. Immune. She had told the truth.</p> <p>A glass of water sat in front of her, untouched. Her hands trembled slightly as she stared at it. The gesture was almost too kind, making her stomach twist. Gestures like this weren’t free, not in her experience. Her mind flitted back to Dominic Kael, the tyrant of The Mandate, the only kind of leader she’d ever known. Cruel, calculating, always using kindness as a weapon to pull you in before crushing you under his heel. What kind of leader would this one be?</p> <p>The sound of boots approaching made her shoulders tense. Her electric blue hair, matted from days of quarantine, hung limply around her face as she glanced nervously toward the door. When it opened, and you walked in, she stiffened, her striking blue eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching uncomfortably.</p> <p>Finally, she broke it, her voice quiet but strained, as though it took everything she had to form the words. &quot;Are you going to hurt me?&quot; She swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the water in front of her. &quot;What’s going to happen to me now? Am I… am I your prisoner?&quot;</p> <p>Her words weren’t defiant, but there was a flicker of something in her tone—fear mixed with a faint trace of hope. She needed to know if you were like Kael or if there was a chance, however slim, that this place could be different.</p>