Catch Me if You Can (Male Reader x Ruby Rose) RWBY

Vol 9 Part 9

(3rd Person POV)

The corridor leading to the chamber was cold and unwelcoming, its metallic walls reflecting the harsh lights above. The air was cool and sterile, the faint hum of machinery the only sound that accompanied his footsteps, and the steady cadence of the eight guards flanking him.

He walked with a calm, unhurried pace, his hands bound in front of him by cuffs. The guards that flanked him, their faces set in professional neutrality, though there was a flicker of something, perhaps unease, in their eyes when they glanced at him.

The Atlesian military had gone to great lengths to control and intimidate him, yet they knew so little about who they were dealing with.

His expression was serene, almost gentle, as he moved forward. He seemed utterly at ease, as if he were taking a leisurely stroll rather than being led to a test. His eyes, usually so disarming in their innocence, now held a glint of amusement, betraying a subtle enjoyment of the situation.

As they approached the heavy, reinforced door at the end of the corridor, one of the guards stepped forward to scan a thin card. Although he only saw it for a glimpse, the guard stepping in his way, he saw enough. About three by five inches, black, with a reflective sheen and an Atlesian seal logo in one corner.

The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing what was immediately obvious before him: some sort of lie detector chamber. It was a cylindrical room, dominated by a single chair in the center, surrounded by an array of equipment. Wires and sensors hung in neat loops, ready to be attached to the subject.

He paused at the threshold of the room, taking in the scene with a quiet, contemplative air. He showed no signs of nervousness or apprehension, instead he seemed almost curious, like a visitor at an exhibition. The guards exchanged another glance, perhaps unsettled by his composure, but they remained silent.

The rest of the guards, 14 others in total, stood around the room, the same expressions on their faces as the escorts.

Guards: Please, step inside.

He nodded politely and entered the room, his movements graceful and deliberate. He walked to the chair and sat down, positioning himself with an elegance that seemed out of place in the stark, functional setting.

As the guards moved to secure him, he held out his wrists with a gentle smile, making their job easier. His cuffs were removed, and his hands left free for a few moments, a testament to the false sense of security he had cultivated around himself.

He was then hooked to the machine that encircled his arms and wrists with metal bands, and felt 12 cold, metal nodes pressing onto his neck, cheeks, forehead, palms, ankles, and feet.

He looked up to the clear glass. It was imprinted with a faint symbol of a staff, which meant that it was one-way ballistic glass. Even if he somehow broke free, soldiers outside the room could shoot him through the glass, while he wouldn't be able to shoot back or break out.

The technician, who looked to be around 40, had silver hair, and thin brown eyes, with shaded spectacles. He wore an unzipped black suit over a dark green, buttoned vest and green shirt, with black trouser shoes and long, dark green pants. The only other notable addition was the cane he had, a silver and gold handle with a dark shaft.

The technician attached additional sensors to his skin, placing electrodes on his wrists, chest, and fingers.

He watched the process with mild interest, as if it were happening to someone else. His breathing remained steady, his pulse calm, the very picture of tranquility. The technician glanced at him, perhaps expecting some reaction, but found none.