"How's the search going?" Jerry asked, his voice sharp and cutting through the heavy silence.
"The search…" Cormac hesitated. Though only the two of them occupied the room, an eerie tension filled the space, suffocating, as if a hundred unseen eyes lurked in the shadows, listening, waiting.
"Speak freely," Jerry sighed, his frustration barely restrained.
Cormac clenched his fists before finally responding. "We haven't been able to find any traces of Zett or the Crimson Hounds." His voice held a grim edge. "It's almost like they just vanished out of existence."
A sharp crack echoed through the room as Jerry slammed his hand onto his desk, scattering papers in a chaotic mess. Cormac flinched involuntarily, feeling his throat tighten. He had never seen Jerry this anxious before. His superior wasn't just frustrated, he was desperate.
"We need to find them as soon as possible." Jerry's voice dropped into a dangerous growl. "We can't let those two years elapse."
