Through everything he went through, Mika never broke.
He endured the Iron Sentinel's crushing grip, the surgeon's scalpel, the actor's blowtorch, the chef's knives, the newscaster's camera, the politician's belt, the professor's lectures.
He endured them all with that same defiant glare in his eyes.
But there was one single, terrible moment where Charlotte saw genuine fear on his face.
—
Marcus came alone that time.
He didn't bring any tools. He didn't bring any of his usual instruments of torture.
He simply walked up to Mika's chair with a strange, satisfied smile on his face.
"You know." He said, his voice soft and contemplative. "You embarrassed me the other day. Rattling my domain like that. Making me look weak in front of a guest."
He reached out and tapped Mika's forehead with a single finger. "I think it's time I returned the favor."
And suddenly, Mika's eyes went blank.
His body, which had always been tense and ready, went limp. His head lolled forward.
