The heavy, reinforced doors of the healing chamber hissed open, releasing a cloud of chilled, crimson-tinted mist. Zwager, the high-ranking Evaluator of the Union, stood waiting. His heart, usually as cold and steady as a clock, was hammering against his ribs.
A silhouette emerged from the fog.
The withered, hunched figure that had entered the room hours ago was gone. In her place stepped a woman who looked to be in the golden prime of her life—a true "GILF" in every sense of the word. She possessed a regal, commanding presence, with a silhouette defined by deep curves, ample breasts, and hips that swayed with a predatory grace. A glowing ruby was embedded in the center of her forehead, and her eyes—once milky with age—were now a piercing, lethal crimson.
The moment her gaze fell upon him, Zwager dropped to one knee, his forehead nearly touching the cold floor.
"My Lady, it is the greatest honor to have you back," said Zwager.
