The drive had been suffocating.
Felix had not spoken a single word since the heavy doors of the ether car locked them inside. He had simply sat across from Liam, one gloved hand resting over his cane, his light purple eyes fixed on the passing streets with the serene, untouchable calm of a man who believed the world had already arranged itself beneath his feet.
He did not gloat.
He did not threaten.
The silence itself was the weapon, designed to make Liam's imagination tear itself apart before they even arrived.
Liam did not give him the satisfaction of fidgeting. He kept his hands folded in his lap, his gaze forward, and counted the seconds with the ruthless discipline of a man measuring pressure inside a failing system.
Arik was coming.
The Agaron Shadows were tracking them.
Stanford would report what happened with the cold, brutal precision of a man who knew exactly how badly he had been outmaneuvered and intended to make the correction fatal.
