The wizard found himself maddened by the bedside, watching as nurses and doctors had scrambled to stabilize his friend. Delicate instruments, thin paper tubes and elastics were hooked up to his mouth and arm, measuring his breathing and heart rate. This seemed like witchcraft to the magician, however as he’d witness the efficacy of actual witchcraft in the jungles of Dheathain, he deferred to those that called themselves experts. Each new face was scrutinized with animus, Storm serving as the mighty Cerberus protecting the gates to Vaan Osiris’s personal hell. Internally, his mind raced, his pulse quickened and sweat filling the back of his shirt.

Why are you here? What are you going to do? If those bastards were bold enough to attack you in broad daylight, who’s to say they don’t try to blow up this little hospital?

And what’s the alternative? Go back to the market and sniff around for clues like some type of half-assed bloodhound? How do you think that ends?

In the corner of the room, his luggage was beginning to smell. The handsome salesman remained bound, even as he gently tried to slowly wriggle free. His eyes were wide and manic, but his face held a nervous smile, as if trying to sell his captor of his own passivity.

“Relax, I’d have done the same thing. Try to wretch free, don’t let me know if you do get loose, and wait for a moment to bolt. I won’t hold your own humanity against you.”

The tanned blonde looked awash with relief. “Thank you sir. I just, I couldn’t know… I didn’t…”

Storm interrupted him like a falcon striking its prey, rocketing to him in a single wave of dizzying speed. The electromancer had seemed to float to the little man, and was holding the salesman’s sweat soaked lower jaw between his fingertips with a speed that simply didn’t add up.

“Don’t say another fucking word if you value your life. Not yet. I saw your eyes flicker before the shot. You knew it was coming.”

The handful of doctors and nurses attending to Shinsou had maneuvered away from Veritas as he assaulted his apprehended prize, too scared to act as anything more noteworthy than a bird on the windowsill was disrupting their work. Confrontation was in none of their best interests, and the lot of them wisely avoided any awkwardness wholesale.

Before the wheat-shop hawker could offer rebuttal, his captor hoisted him once more over his shoulder like a rolled length of carpet. Storm wasn’t incredibly strong, but the man was light, and it was only a few moments before the tired, frightened fellow found himself dropped upon the bed in a nearby room.

The room felt cold to him, and he was scared. He motioned to cry out in desperate sadness before a large, slender hand wrapped down over his mouth. It was rough, and strong again. The snake-like coil about his wrists seemed to loosen slightly, but also pulled his hands up to the headboard, where he helplessly watched them twist a know about the center beam above him. One foot was released as his metal foot-tether bound his right leg down to the right foot of the bed. He had one free leg, and one of the most dangerous men in the world was seated heavily atop it. Menacing eyes glowed white at him as the hand gently, slowly softened the pressure at his lips.

“Please sir! There’s no need to harm me! I’ll tell you anything! Everything!” The hand clamped down like a crocodile upon him, snapping his teeth together in agony.

“Yes, you’re correct. You’re going to tell me everything. Every detail. Every nuance. Every name and time and payoff. And we’re not going to waste time.”

Storm raised his right hand to the door from the bed, the iron doorknob hearing his command and obediently slamming the door shut. From fifteen feet away, the horrified captive watched as a heavy deadbolt slid closed, pushed by the invisible hand of the devil.

The pinned man was aghast. His bladder at last let go, only to be met by the furious sneer of his captor. This man was a nightmare he couldn’t imagine.