Adam sat in a dimly lit interrogation chamber, his hands resting on the wooden table in front of him.
His weapons had been confiscated, and two guards stood watch by the door.
Across from him, an officer scrutinized him with piercing eyes.
The officer frowned, but before he could press further, a knock came at the door.
Another guard entered and whispered something into his ear.
Adam watched as the officer's expression shifted, irritation giving way to reluctant understanding. With a sigh, he leaned back.
"She woke up."
Adam's eyes sharpened.
"And?"
"She confirmed your story."
The officer didn't look pleased about it, but at least he wasn't accusing Adam anymore.
"You're free to go."
One of the guards stepped forward, placing a small bundle on the table—his confiscated belongings.
Adam reached for them, securing his weapons.
As he strapped his gear back into place, another officer entered, this one carrying a stack of documents under his arm.
