Arriving at the Headquarters of the millitary.

Donald took Arthur to his car, a black SUV that blended seamlessly into the night. Without a word, he opened the passenger door, gesturing for Arthur to get in.

Arthur didn't move immediately. He glanced at Donald, then at the car, he wasn't naive—this wasn't just a ride. 

"Here, put this on."

Donald held out a black blindfold.

Arthur's gaze flickered to the fabric, then back to the man's expressionless face.

He took the blindfold.

Without hesitation, he wrapped it around his head and tied it securely.

He heard the faint sound of approval in Donald's hum before the door clicked shut beside him.

The engine roared to life, smooth and nearly soundless, and the car lurched forward.

Arthur didn't speak.

Neither did Donald.

The silence between them stretched, heavy yet unspoken. The only sounds were the gentle hum of the tires against the pavement and the faint vibration of the engine.