I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Theron's office looked the same as before, simple and functional with a desk covered in papers and bookshelves filled with reports. The window overlooked the training yard where soldiers were still going through their drills, their movements sharp and precise even from this distance. Nothing fancy, nothing decorative.
Just a workspace that reflected the man who used it.
Theron sat behind the desk, reading something. He looked up when I entered, and for a moment neither of us spoke. His pale blue eyes studied me carefully, taking in how I moved, how I held myself, probably noticing every little tension I tried to hide.
Then he gestured to the chair across from him.
"...Sit."
I sat. The movement still sent a dull ache through my side, but I kept my expression neutral. Didn't want him thinking I was still weak or not ready.
He leaned back in his chair and looked at me for a long moment.
"You look better," he said finally.
