The room was silent, heavy with darkness. Only a faint, flickering light from somewhere in the corner barely lit the dusty floor. A chill seemed to hang in the air, making the man’s skin crawl.

He was on his knees, his hands pressed into the cold, cracked ground. His face was pale, tired, and covered in thin sweat. His eyes were filled with worry and fear, darting toward the dark corner ahead as if expecting something terrible.

He took a shaky breath and spoke, his voice low, almost breaking,“Davin Davide has decided to break the relationship with the Russians."

From the shadowed darkness, a voice answered. Calm, cold, and emotionless, it sounded like it came from far away, yet filled the whole room.

“Hmm… What about the Russians?”

The man swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. His lips quivered, but he forced out the words, obedient and careful, afraid of upsetting the unseen figure.