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In the dimly lit confines of an interrogation room, the harsh glow of a single light bulb flickers above. The air feels heavy, almost suffocating, as a Vaporeon sits across from the interrogator.
Its sleek, light-blue body shimmers subtly under the flickering light, casting an ethereal glow in the otherwise stark room. The Vaporeon's eyes, black with a hint of magenta, fixate on the interrogator with an expression that's hard to read—somewhere between wary and outright disdainful.
“Do you know why you’re here?” the interrogator’s distorted voice asks, steady and imposing, breaking the silence with a question that seems almost rhetorical in this setting.
"No," Vaporeon replies, its voice monotone yet laced with an undercurrent of irritation. "Humans. Always too close, always too... touchy. And now, what? You accuse me of defending myself?"
The room's tension thickens as the interrogator leans in, pressing further. "Is it true that you killed your trainer?"
Vaporeon's reaction is a mix of shock and anger, its body tensing as if ready to melt into water and escape this confrontation. "How do you know it was me and not L?"
The interrogator, unfazed by the shift in Vaporeon's demeanor, continues. "He says it was you."
"Motherfucker!" The word escapes Vaporeon's lips with a venom that seems at odds with its fluid, graceful form. The accusation hangs in the air, a palpable force that adds weight to the already oppressive atmosphere of the room.
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