The air in the room was thick with tension. Hughie, standing tall in the center, exhaled slowly, a palpable sense of urgency radiating from him. His gaze swept across the faces of his companions, lingering on each one, assessing their reactions.

"Look," he began, his voice firm, "if we can flip Neumann, as powerful as she is, with everything that she has on Vought, I mean... if there's even a five percent chance..."

Frenchie scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Forget it, Nuemann is a monster," he declared, his voice laced with disgust.*

Hughie turned his attention to Frenchie, his expression unwavering. "I'm not saying that," he countered, his voice steady. "I'm saying... look, we've all done bad shit. What if she's just fucked up like the rest of us, just trying to do right by her kid?"

Starlight scoffed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "It's fucking insane..." she spat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That we're even discussing this..."

Hughie turned to her, his voice rising slightly. "What's insane is that our solution to every problem is murder," he declared, his voice filled with conviction. "I used to freak out whenever I saw blood. Now I barely blink at it." He paused, letting his words sink in. "It shouldn't be that way. This isn't some... fucking Vought movie. Violence isn't brave."

Hughie's words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the usual banter that filled their meetings. The room fell silent, each member of the group deep in thought, grappling with the profound implications of Hughie's words.