Tyler gaped, rapid-fire calculations going off in his mind at light speed. "How many thousands–" he choked, " how many thousands of people had to die for this?! " He whipped his head back around to stare accusingly at Marcoh, acid crawling up his esophagus.
The man stood in the doorway, framed by the darkness behind him, and yet it felt as though he cast a long shadow over Tyler. Gone was the hunched, repentant figure that Tyler had first met, Marcoh standing to his full height, a small, self-assured tilt to his head. Tyler couldn’t read his expression and he blinked hard, unsure if he could trust his eyes when the room kept spinning.
"Do you really want to know?" When Tyler wouldn’t, couldn’t respond past the lump in his throat, Marcoh slowly entered the room, footsteps echoing loudly
