"Done," Mike said, and his voice was a low, calm rumble, devoid of the adrenaline that should have been screaming in his veins.
He looked entirely in command of his soul.
Bruce stared up at him, his eyes searching Mike's face for a hint of fatigue, a flicker of doubt, anything that would suggest this was a performance. He found nothing but a terrifying, serene power.
"You could have ended that faster," Bruce said, his voice a rasp of pure realization.
It wasn't a question; it was an indictment of the mercy Mike had shown. "Any of the four of us..."
'You could have broken our necks or cracked our skulls in the first second of the encounter."
"Yes," Mike replied, his gaze unwavering, his expression cocky yet profound.
"Then why didn't you?"
Mike leaned in just a fraction, his presence expanding until it felt like the walls of the room might buckle. "Because ending it in the first second would have told you I was dangerous, Bruce."
