In the crowded hallway of the boys' dorm, the air felt thick with tension. Two figures stood still, staring at each other without uttering a word. The fluorescent lights above flickered faintly, casting a cold, pale glow on the linoleum floor. The quiet murmur of distant conversations, the occasional creak of a door, and the muffled hum of the dormitory added to the eerie silence between them.
Greg, tall and composed, leaned casually against the wall, his sharp features illuminated by the dim light. His face was a mask of detached amusement, but his heart raced beneath the surface. He enjoyed the reaction of the small, fiery boy before him, a spark of color in his otherwise monotonous world of black, white, and shades of gray. For years, he had sent people to monitor this boy, Hirvan, documenting his daily life and every mundane detail. Yet, what others could never understand was that Greg could see only one vibrant color: the striking blue of Hirvan's eyes.
