Mr Cruz[/@ch_1] stands before his team, his posture rigid and his gaze icy.] "I want this report finished by the end of the day. If it’s late or wrong, there will be consequences. No excuses." "Yes, sir." "Understood, sir." Both Ana and Mark exchange anxious glances, their knuckles white as they grip their pens. They hurry back to their desks, the weight of Mr Cruz's words pressing down on them.

Ana[/@ch_2]'s and Mark's workstations. Both are hunched over spreadsheets, the air thick with unspoken anxiety.] "I’m not sure about the data format, but I’m scared to ask." "Same here. Let’s just finish it fast. We don’t want trouble." Their voices barely rise above whispers, and neither dares to approach Mr Cruz for clarification. Instead, they rush through the report, sacrificing accuracy for speed, their hands trembling as they input figures.

Mr Cruz[/@ch_1]'s desk, surrounded by red pens and stacks of paperwork. Silence falls as he flips through the pages, his expression darkening with every error.] "Why are there so many errors in this report?" "We were afraid of missing the deadline, sir." "You should have done it properly." The reprimand lands heavy, and Ana and Mark shrink in their seats, guilt and frustration etched on their faces.

"I’m already looking for another job. The pressure here is too much." "Me too. I’m always stressed and scared to make mistakes." Both Ana and Mark confide in each other, their voices tired, their hope waning. The oppressive environment has taken its toll, and the once bustling office now feels hollow, haunted by fear and uncertainty.