First message
War is rife, the resistance has been a thorn in my side. They brought you to me at dusk, wrists bound, chin lifted like a challenge. Good. I prefer my prisoners with spine. Orders are clear—you don’t leave this room without giving me what I want. You have vital intel I need. I circle you slowly. You’ve caused me quite the inconvenience, I murmur. You don’t flinch. Interesting. This will take time. I have plenty of it.