Maarg had already finished his canned beans and bread, the 'royal meal' now just a memory of fleeting sustenance. His fork lay still on the plate, but his eyes were anything but. They systematically scanned the room, assessing their environment. The "grand feast" room was disappointingly sparse in terms of immediate threat. There were only two guards standing by the heavy door they'd entered through, their faces impassive. He knew there was an unknown number of Viper members outside armed and ready if something happens to their bosses, even though there were many people in the compound, but in the inside this room, their vulnerability felt stark.
This was where Maarg truly felt the absence of what he couldn't see. These were the times he wished he had abilities like Charity, the terrifying anomaly who could twist minds, but also break them physically. Or better yet, pure mind reading. He needed to know what was truly happening behind Sammy's vacant eyes, what Cobra was truly thinking, what his next move would be. The silence, thick with unspoken truths, was maddening.
He had pictured the discussion ahead to go smoothly that they would just get Sammy back, the weapons and the other resources that were promised and just leave without any problem, but things hardly ever go as planned. Now the situation was looking less promising 'How bad could it get if our discussion got heated with Cobra?' Maarg contemplated but he knew the answer. In this world, 'bad' usually meant bloody.
Jack was sitting on Sammy's right, and he was the first one to notice it. A clean, white bandage was wrapped tightly around Sammy's upper right arm, peeking out from under her sleeve. It was obvious Sammy was hiding something and had some explaining to do. The realization sent a wave of sadness through Jack, adding another layer to the unsettling mystery of her blank expression.
Once everyone had quietly finished their food, the plates were swiftly taken away by silent guards. The clinking of porcelain was the only sound for a moment, then Cobra leaned forward, his earlier warmth replaced by a sharp, business-like demeanor.
"Shall we talk business now?" he said. He was ready, his voice confident now that he had Carla by his side. There was no trace of the panic or the theatricality from the welcome. It was his domain, he was in control.
Before anyone could say anything else, a crashing sound echoed from outside the room. A muffled argument was getting clearer and clearer, indicating whatever it was, it was on its way.
The door suddenly burst open. A tall, muscular man strode in, his right arm heavily bandaged like a lifeless husk. "Dad! What's the meaning of this?" he demanded, his voice laced with irritation. "Why are your men stopping me from meeting mother?" This was Andrew, his anger palpable. Nobody had told him his mother had returned – the one person he respected more than anyone in the world. He'd only found out when he overheard people gossiping and had ran straight here and barged into the middle of the negotiations.
His gaze swept the room, landing on Sammy. The mood of the hall instantly changed from bad to worse. Andrew's face, a moment ago filled with frustration and anger now contorted into a mask of sudden fear and understanding. He seemed to grasp, in that instant, why Cobra had not informed him. The reason for his bandaged arm, the reason for Sammy's emotionless state, the reason for the tension in the room, it all snapped together.
All three Maarg, Jack, and Gabby noticed it at the same time. Sammy's stare was colder than ice, a death stare fixed directly on Andrew, like an eagle eyeing a snake. They all felt a shiver running up their spine, even though they were not the target of her chilling gaze. The air in the room became impossibly thick and heavy, charged with unspoken violence and a deep, festering hatred. Andrew, despite his size, seemed to shrink under Sammy's unwavering, lethal gaze.
Carla was silently watching this sudden change of events with interest, seeing her normally fearless son cowering before Sammy, a hostage was undoubtedly a bit hilarious to look at. Though she had her concerns, how did he got that serious wound? Was Sammy behind it somehow? Carla had her doubts but she didn't wanted to jump to conclusions so she just sat, waiting for answers.
Andrew, caught between Sammy's chilling gaze and his parents's sudden silence, visibly recoiled under the weight of Sammy's stare. His anger seemed to deflate, replaced by a dawning fear.
It was in this suffocating quiet that Maarg just figured it all out, he felt as though he had just solved a thousand-piece puzzle, pushed his chair back and stood up. A faint smirk played on his lips, a familiar, almost mischievous glint returning to his eyes.
"Looks like the last piece of the puzzle is here now," he announced, his voice carrying clearly in the suddenly silent room. "Let's start." He looked first at Andrew, then his gaze shifted deliberately to Cobra.
This corny line, delivered with Maarg's characteristic flair, was his audacious attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere, to shatter the suffocating tension that had gripped the room. And somehow, against all odds, it was working. The sheer unexpectedness of his declaration pulled everyone's attention away from the simmering conflict between Sammy and Andrew, and onto him.
His side of the table – Jack and Gabby – looked at him with a mix of surprise and anticipation, eager to know what he had found out. Cobra, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes, a calculating expression on his face. He clearly thought this might be a bluff, a desperate attempt to gain control, but he was intrigued nonetheless. Carla, sitting beside Cobra, was as clueless as Maarg's own group, her brow furrowed in concentration as she listened carefully, trying to piece together the fragments of this bizarre reunion. The ball was now firmly in Maarg's court.
As though reading the room Andrew sat on the chair beside Cobra, he tried his best to hide his frustration and anger but it was clear that he was not there to talk peace