"I gave you every opportunity to walk away, Elliot," Rey said, his voice devoid of any warmth or remorse. He looked down at the man with a chilling, detached gaze. "I warned you, but you chose to treat my mercy like a suggestion. We may have shared a history as partners once, but in this world, sentiment is a liability. I don't have any qualms about ending you; to me, you're just another loose end that needed cutting."
"In exchange for my life, can you let them go?" The plea hung in the stagnant air, brittle and desperate. Elliot's voice, though strained, carried a weight of finality that should have commanded respect.
Instead, silence followed—brief and suffocating—before Rey's composure shattered. He threw his head back, a jagged, discordant laugh tearing from his throat. It was a sound devoid of mirth, echoing off the cold stone walls as if he had just been regaled with the most absurd punchline of the century.
