Yes

The training session was a torment of distraction. Magi moved her body, performing the exercises mechanically, but her mind was elsewhere, caught in the limbo of the sent message and the wait for a response she didn't want. Every time a phone rang or a command was shouted, she flinched, expecting Costa's voice or the buzz of the micro-implant with new instructions.

The call came at the end of the day, when she was already changing in the locker rooms, **** to escape to the false security of her apartment. The locker room intercom flashed a red light.

"Cadet Rojas, report immediately to Warrant Officer Costa's office."

Her heart leaped up, then sank into her stomach. She knew what it was.

Costa's office seemed even colder and more austere than it had that morning. The Warrant Officer was not sitting; she was standing by the window, looking out at the empty training yard. In her hand, she held the disposable phone.

"He responded," she said, without turning around, her voice clear and sharp in the silence of the room.

Magi stood motionless in the center of the room, waiting.

Costa turned slowly. Her expression was inscrutable, but there was a glint of triumph in her eyes, like a chess player who has just made a decisive move.

"Your friend Adrian is... enthusiastic about your message." She paused, enjoying the suspense. "He wants to see you. Tonight."

Magi felt the floor tilt slightly.

"Tonight? Where?" she asked, though she feared the answer.

"At his place. A penthouse in Torres del Este. Very exclusive." Costa approached, holding out the phone for Magi to see the screen.

Adrian's message was brief and direct:

Magda. Glad to hear from you. The night stuck with me too. Why don't you come by my apartment tonight? Say... 9 o'clock? We can discuss those opportunities with more... privacy. I'll send the address.

Magi looked away, feeling nauseous. "Privacy." The word sounded like an elegant threat.

"I can't," she whispered, her voice broken. "Warrant Officer, please. He... he doesn't just want to talk. You know that."

"Of course I know that!" Costa exclaimed, in a tone that sounded almost exasperated, as if Magi were slow. "That's why it's perfect. Trust, intimacy—that's when people loosen their tongues. That's when you get the good information." She closed the remaining distance, standing too close. "You go. You accept the invitation. You attend. And you get us what we need about his partners, his operations, the flow of money."

"And if...?" Magi swallowed hard. "What if he tries something?"

Costa raised an eyebrow, coldly.

"Tries what, Cadet? You are an adult. And an agent on a mission. You will know how to handle the situation." Her gaze swept over Magi's body with disdain. "After last night, I doubt there is much he hasn't seen or imagined. Use that to your advantage."

The crudeness of the words was a slap. Magi felt the heat of shame rise to her face. Costa was not just ordering her into the lion's den; she was telling her that she was already half-devoured, that her value lay precisely in her capacity to be consumed.

"I... I don't have anything to wear," she argued weakly, a final **** attempt. "The dress is..."

"In that bag over there," Costa interrupted, pointing to a glossy paper bag hanging on the coat rack. "Something more... appropriate for an intimate meeting. Now, accept the invitation. In front of me."

Costa held out the phone. Magi took it. Her fingers trembled so much she almost dropped it. She looked at the screen, at Adrian's message that seemed to glow with a sinister light. Then, she looked at Costa. The woman's expression left no room for doubt. There was ****. She had obeyed last night. She had danced. She had stripped. She had sent the message. This was simply the next order in the sequence.

With a deep, shaky breath, she lowered her gaze to the keypad. She typed a single word, a word that felt like the definitive surrender of her will:

Perfect. See you at 9. Send me the address.

She pressed "send." The whoosh of the message going out sounded like a cell door slamming shut.

Costa managed a cold, satisfied expression.

"Good. Now go get ready. The van will pick you up at 20:30." She took the phone from Magi's hands. "And Cadet... remember why you are doing this. For the institution. For your... redemption."

Magi nodded mechanically. She took the bag from the coat rack without looking inside and left the office. She walked to the empty locker rooms, locked herself in a cubicle, and slumped onto the toilet, burying her face in her hands. She didn't cry. There were no tears left. Only a frozen emptiness and the certainty that, at nine o'clock that night, she would cross a threshold from which there would be no return. The mission was everything. And she had accepted being the pawn sacrificed for the queen.