THIRD PERSON
"You will never get Nashira... Sweep the entire world, and you would still get none. Just like what happened twenty years ago."
A WOMAN IN her 40's calmly uttered and chuckled after that. She was tied in a chair. Bruises all over her face, her short hair messed-up and what's worse, she is losing two fingers of her right hand.
She hardly opens her eyes while glaring at the man, wearing a black hood, and hiding from the dark of his throne. Throne, as in couch.
"Twenty years ago, I didn't have you. Now, you're sitting in front of me, you'll tell me. And I'm sure of it." A voice of a man, probably in his 40's to 50's, responded. It was not a deep and fearsome voice that would give someone who could hear it a chill into their spine. But instead, a rasping melodious tone came
