Tall. Controlled. Still in a way that feels more dangerous than movement.
His gaze flicks to Aaron.
Measures him.
Respects him.
Then shifts to me.
And lingers.
Longer than it should.
“So,” he says, voice calm, almost conversational,
“you’re the reason the world’s on fire.”
Not accusation.
Assessment.
I hold his gaze.
“Yes.”
Silence stretches.
Then—
He smiles.
Sharp. Interested.
“I like her.”
Another voice cuts in from behind him.
“You would.”
A second man steps forward—broader, colder, eyes like he’s already seen the ending.
“Question is,” he adds, looking directly at me,
“are you going to save it…”
A beat.
“Or burn it down the right way?”
I don’t answer.
Because the truth is—
I don’t know yet.
And they can see that.
Which only makes them more dangerous.
