Elias took another step forward. His cybernetic eye glowed brightly.
"You want to hit him, don't you? You took his train, and you took his slaves. You are going after the Consortium."
Arthur didn't confirm or deny it. He just opened the bottom drawer of his mahogany desk. He pulled out a bottle of top-shelf celestial whiskey he had saved from Gildas's personal stash. He pulled out two glasses.
Arthur poured a generous measure of the amber liquid into both glasses. He slid one across the polished wood toward the edge of the desk.
"Have a seat, Elias," Arthur smiled, a terrifyingly ambitious light dancing in his dark eyes. "Tell me exactly how I break into the Iron Tower."
Elias practically collapsed into the leather chair opposite Arthur's desk. He grabbed the glass of celestial whiskey with trembling hands and downed it in a single, desperate gulp.
He coughed violently as the hyper-refined alcohol burned down his throat, but the color slowly returned to his pale cheeks.
