Chapter Text
At exactly 7:42 p.m., most of the lights on the twenty-third floor of Fatui Innovations Corp were already off.
Most.
One office, at the far end of the engineering wing, was still brightly lit.
Sandrone sat alone in front of three monitors, her eyes fixed on lines of code that scrolled endlessly across the screen. Her fingers moved fast, precise typing, deleting, rewriting, optimizing.
Error.
Fix.
Test.
Repeat.
She hadn’t checked the time in hours. She never did.
Around her, empty coffee cups were stacked like trophies of exhaustion. Her blazer was draped over the back of her chair. Her hair, usually tied neatly, had come loose at the sides.
Still, she didn’t stop.
Deadlines didn’t care about fatigue.
Neither did her superiors.
Neither did she.
“Version 3.7… deploy.”
She pressed Enter.
The system froze.
Sandrone’s jaw tightened.
“…Of course.”
She leaned back slightly, rubbing her temple. Just for a second. Then she leaned forward again, already preparing to troubleshoot.
That was when she heard it.
A soft knock.
She frowned.
No one knocked on her door.
“Come in,” she said flatly, without looking. The door opened.
“Um… excuse me, Ms. Sandrone?” The voice was gentle.
Sandrone paused mid keystroke.
She turned.
Standing at the doorway was a woman she had never seen before.
She was holding a tablet to her chest, a company ID hanging from her neck. Her blouse was light-colored, simple. Her long hair fell loosely over her shoulders. There was something calm about her presence like she didn’t belong in a place filled with stress and deadlines.
She smiled.
“Sorry to disturb you so late,” the woman said. “I’m Columbina. From HR.”
Sandrone’s expression immediately hardened.
“…HR?”
“Yes,” Columbina nodded. “I’m in charge of employee wellness and workload assessments. I was assigned to your department.”
Sandrone turned back to her screen. “I’m busy.”
“I can see that,” Columbina replied softly.
Sandrone stopped typing. Slowly, she looked at her again.
Most people, when faced with her tone, backed off.
Columbina didn’t.
She stepped inside the office and gently closed the door behind her.
“I just need five minutes,” Columbina said. “I promise.”
“I don’t have five minutes.”
“You’ve been here since 9 a.m.”
Sandrone blinked. “…How do you know that?”
Columbina lifted her tablet slightly. “Entry logs.”
A pause.
Sandrone frowned.
“Stalking employees now?”
Columbina laughed quietly.
“No,” she said. “Just… doing my job.”
She walked closer, stopping a few steps away from Sandrone’s desk.
“You skipped lunch,” Columbina continued.
“And dinner.”
“And your last three break reminders.”
Sandrone crossed her arms.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s what everyone says right before collapsing.”
“I won’t.”
“You might.”
“I won’t.”
Columbina tilted her head slightly, studying her.
“…You’re very stubborn.”
Sandrone raised an eyebrow.
“And you’re very annoying.”
Instead of reacting, Columbina smiled wider. “I’ve been told.”
Silence filled the room.
Only the low hum of the computers remained.
Sandrone looked back at her screen, pretending to focus. But her thoughts were no longer aligned with the code.
Why wasn’t this HR officer leaving?
Columbina glanced at the monitors. “Is it a memory leak?”
Sandrone froze.
“…What?”
“The freeze,” Columbina said. “It looks like one.”
Sandrone stared at her. “You… know about that?”
“A little,” Columbina admitted. “I have a friend in IT. He complains about stuff like this all the time.”
For a brief moment, Sandrone forgot to hide her surprise.
Then she masked it immediately. “Hmph.”
She turned back.
“…It is.”
Columbina’s eyes softened.
“Then you’ve been debugging for hours.”
“…So?”
“So you’re exhausted.”
“I work better when I’m tired.”
“That’s scientifically inaccurate.”
Sandrone scoffed. “You came here to argue?”
“No,” Columbina said. “I came here to make sure you’re okay.”
That sentence lingered in the air.
Sandrone didn’t respond.
No one ever said things like that to her.
They asked about progress. About results. About deadlines. Not her.
Columbina placed a small paper bag on the edge of her desk.
“I brought dinner,” she said. “It’s nothing fancy. Just soup and bread.”
“I didn’t ask for it.”
“I know.”
“Then take it back.”
“I won’t.”
Sandrone finally looked at her fully.
Their eyes met.
Columbina’s were calm.
For some reason, Sandrone looked away first.
“…You’re wasting your time,” she muttered.
“Maybe,” Columbina replied. “But I don’t mind.”
Another silence.
Minutes passed.
Sandrone’s stomach betrayed her with a quiet growl.
Columbina pretended not to hear it.
But her lips curved slightly.
Sandrone noticed.
“…Don’t smile.”
“Sorry.”
She didn’t look sorry.
Reluctantly, Sandrone reached for the bag. “…Five minutes,” she said.
Columbina’s smile softened. “Deal.”
She took a seat quietly across from her desk.
Watching.
Not intruding.
And for the first time in months…
Sandrone didn’t hate the company.
To be continued….