[Mafia Headquarters]
The screen mounted on the far wall showed the same broadcast looping over and over.
Mike stood closest to the screen, his arms crossed, his weathered face unreadable.
Ariana stood a few steps back, her hands empty at her sides for once with no sign of her katana.
Edrin had taken his glasses off and was cleaning them on his shirt.
Zavier leaned against the doorframe, his jaw tight.
Ronan hadn't said a word since the broadcast started, which for him was its own kind of loud.
Lysa sat on the arm of a chair, her knees pulled up.
Mike let the silence sit for a while before he broke it, his voice rough.
"All of you already know why he did what he did to you, don't you?" It wasn't really a question. "Your willpower's grown more in the last few days than most awakeners manage in years. You shouldn't hold it against hi–"
"Old Mike."
Zavier cut in before he could finish, straightening off the doorframe.
