Tisya fixed her tie, and checked her concealed pistol, a habit she kept to on every assignment she embarked on troighout her career. The large double doors opened, on the highest floor of Shade Tower, revealing the long, but minimalist office. Sleek, futuristic, no clutter. Two armed guards in full black combat gear stood on either side of the office, rifles in hand, masks on. At the end, a security screen stood with a light behind it. The screen was dimmed, so only the outline of the elusive Mr. Shade was visible. She walked in, taking a seat in the chair across from the screen. "Mr. Shade. A bit dramatic, isn't it? The security screen, the shadows."

"Indeed." She murmured noncommittally, eyeing the guards warily as they made no move to stop her. "You could trust me with your face. Or lack thereof." Her lips curled into a half smile, the amber eyes behind the dark shades remaining still and focused on Mr. Shade.

"I'm here to learn everything about you." She said simply, her tone businesslike and unyielding. "Your background, your plans, your weaknesses... I want to know it all, so that the FBI can take you down." Her gaze did not waver from his dim outline.

Tisya raised an eyebrow slightly, the expression cold and unreadable. "Well, I could start by telling you that your security guards wouldn't be much help if we were to engage in a... physical altercation." She paused, then added with a sneer, "Of course, they might not mind dying for their jobs. But since this is supposedly about 'peaceful negotiations', I thought it best not to threaten them needlessly." The implication hung heavily in the air as she leaned back in her chair, seeming almost bored with the game.

She snorted softly, unimpressed. "Experience means little against well-placed aggression." Her fingers drummed idly on the arm of the chair as she fixed her gaze once more on the shadowy form across from her. "I can take them out myself if I have to." There was no doubt in her voice; she sounded unconcerned, almost bored at the prospect. "But it would leave a mess," she added with a shrug, "and I'm sure you value cleanliness as much as anyone else."

Her amber eyes narrowed slightly, searching for any reaction from Mr. Shade in his silhouette. This man was supposedly reclusive, yet he had outsmarted the FBI countless times over the years. Perhaps there was a reason he had managed to evade capture for so long...

"Then I suppose we should keep this civilized." She paused again before adding softly, "For now." Her tone was still cold and unyielding, but there was a hint of amusement in the words. "Let's begin with an easy question, shall we? Why did you become a weapons dealer?" It seemed innocuous enough - a simple question to break the ice, as it were. But Tisya knew that sometimes the most insignificant-seeming details could hold the key to unlocking someone's deepest secrets.

"Money." She repeated flatly, her tone devoid of emotion. "Everyone needs it, I suppose." The corners of her mouth twitched in what might have been the barest hint of a smile. "But there must be more to your story than that. What made you choose this particular path?" Her question was sharp and precise, a scalpel slicing through the silence between them.

"And I imagine you'd say it was out of some sort of moral obligation to arm the world." Her tone was light and mocking. "Or perhaps that you were simply born with a talent for destruction, and felt compelled to share your gift with those less fortunate?" The amber eyes flickered behind her dark glasses, narrowing as she studied Mr. Shade's shadowy outline once more. "Come now," she purred, "let's not pretend this is about helping anyone but yourself. Tell me the truth... what really drives you?"

Her lips curved into a bitter smile as she leaned forward in her chair. "Chaos," she repeated softly. "So that's it." There was an unspoken question hanging in the air, but she did not voice it aloud. Instead, she sat back again and steepled her fingers before her lips. "And you truly believe that helping people involves giving them weapons? Arming them for a battle they can never hope to win?" Her tone was cool and dispassionate, as if discussing the weather or the price of tea in China. "It seems to me that all you're doing is perpetuating suffering on an unimaginable scale." "But perhaps I'm wrong," she continued before he could respond. "Perhaps you do have some sort of grand design... a master plan to use your wealth and influence for the greater good. Tell me, Mr. Shade... what does

what does that look like? Your ultimate goal, I mean."

There was no response from the shadowy form across from her. The silence stretched out, tense and oppressive. Finally, she sighed softly and leaned back in her chair once more. "Fine. You don't have to tell me anything else. But remember this," her voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper, "the FBI will not stop until you are behind bars, or dead." Her gaze bore into the dim outline of Mr. Shade as if she could see right through him, and she held his unblinking stare for several long moments before finally looking away.

She stood up, straightening her jacket and holstering her weapon with practiced ease. "Thank you for your time," she said curtly, not bothering to mask the sarcasm in her voice as she made for the exit. As she

She paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder at Mr. Shade with a raised eyebrow. "Something else you'd like to add?" she asked coolly, her tone dripping with annoyance and disdain.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and took a slow step back into the room, regarding him with an impatient expression. "If it's going to take up too much of your precious time, I can always come back later." There was a predatory quality in her voice that seemed out of place coming from someone who had been so calm only moments ago.

Eyes narrowing slightly, she followed the shadowy form as he led her deeper into the office. The guards outside barely seemed to register their presence, their attention focused elsewhere. As they reached a small, private room, Mr. Shade turned to face her once more.

"My ultimate goal," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, "is to create a world where chaos reigns supreme." There was a chilling calmness in his tone that sent shivers down Tisya's spine despite herself. "A world where order is nothing more than an illusion, and those who cling to it are destroyed along with their oppressive dreams."

She stared at him for several long moments, her expression unreadable behind the dark glasses. "And you truly believe that giving people weapons will bring about this 'chaotic utopia'?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a