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Returning to the Commission was meant to be a nightmare, according to the facade she had put on to gain the trust of Five. Yet, Zoya could not disguise the welcoming feeling she got when she arrived back to the place she had stayed at for most of her life. It was a place she had hated and loved, but it was the closest she ever had to a home. Nobody could deny the trauma enclosed in those walls, the nights she had screamed and pleaded for somebody to save her, but there was also the moments where she was fully able to unlock her potential, it was the place that allowed her to be who she was meant to be.
Immediately, she was ushered away from The Handler and Five, the older woman stating that he wanted to speak to her, who he was, Five did not know and he made a note to ask the girl about it later. So, off she went, walking down the eerily familiar hallways, locating his office. She could find that room blindfolded, the place she had laughed, where she had cried and on the odd occasion, the room she had drawn blood.
Pushing against the wooden door, she opted for not knocking, she never did anyway. Stepping into the room, she locked eyes with the man who sought out her presence. Looking the exact same as he did during their first arrival, he sat with a cigarette pressed to his lips. When he noticed the girl had arrived, he grinned and motioned for her to take a seat as she stepped further into the room.
"How's the mission going, my little nightmare?" Fedyor questioned with a chuckle as the girl groaned and took a seat opposite him.
"Boring, next time put me on something quick, you know I loathe anything that requires attachment." Zoya complained, slouching in the chair as she huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.
