Even the arm Zion had dislocated had already been reset and restored, and seeing Maxwell moving it freely as if nothing had happened.
And at some point, Zion stopped caring.
Maybe the mention of his secret had touched something deeply buried within Maxwell, a memory rooted in darkness. It could be a secret tied to a trauma, something that had carved shadows into his mind. Zion didn't know for certain, but judging by Maxwell's current state, the speculation didn't seem far-fetched.
Maxwell's behavior was too unusual, too unsettling.
It was as if he were unraveling, using pain as a way to reset his thoughts, to drown out whatever was gnawing at him. When Zion thought back to Maxwell's reaction in the tent, the cold silence, the tension, and how he had followed him outside just to ask for a fight, the picture became clearer.
