Geoffrey stared seriously at the documents on the table, sometimes picking up a page to examine closely, sometimes looking towards the other side of the room, at the interrogation room behind the one-way glass.
In the oppressive, claustrophobic interrogation room, a pitiful human figure sat on a chair, hands bound behind their back.
Norm had come back to life, though in a terrible state, merely maintaining a semblance of being "alive," but for interrogation purposes, it was sufficient.
Beside him was an iron rack, hanging numerous IV bottles, infusion needles buried in veins, bandages wrapped around his face, eyes blurred, consciousness hovering between clarity and confusion.
"Is there anything else you want to ask?"
A voice emerged from the broadcast; inside the interrogation room was another person, dressed in pitch-black uniform, standing beside the barely breathing Norm, exuding a chilling aura.
