Don didn't answer immediately. The request had caught him still, and Charles—already mid-turn toward the hall—slowed, head angling back in curiosity.
The others gave their own looks. Subtle, but there. Thunderclap tilted his chin slightly; Phantom Strike's eyes narrowed behind the balaclava; Frostbite lingered with a faint stillness, as though weighing something.
Don let it hang only a moment longer. "Not a problem," he said at last, turning slightly to Charles. "I'll meet up with you later."
Charles gave a faint nod. "Not a problem." With that, he adjusted his aviators and strode out, his silver hair catching the office lights in streaks.
Don stepped deeper into the office. Behind him, Xiao's smile spread. "May I bother you all to grant us some privacy? If you still have questions, I'll still be available to answer afterward."
