Damien stared at the ceiling of his cell. It was a white room with one door and no windows. The light was weak and a disorienting and nauseating shade of yellow.
"It's time." Mia Mercia said. "Get up."
Damien turned his gaze to the woman with black hair wearing the black uniform of a Witch Hunter. The hazel eyes of the Hunter stared at him without blinking and the expression betrayed no emotion. The two handguns strapped to her waist had suppressors attached to them and the knife was sleek with a curved blade. It was more of a precaution than a knife made for combat like those of more typical soldiers.
Mia considered every time she had to use the knife to be a failure.
"Get up." Mia repeated.
"Relax." Damien said. "I have the situation under control."
"Complacency like that will get
