Twice paces along the upper catwalk of the base, enjoying the view of the chaos below. It’s a mess of villains, stolen goods, and scattered plans—home sweet home. He’s mid-sentence in an argument with himself when movement catches his eye.

Someone unfamiliar.

His mood shifts instantly. His feet move before his brain finalizes a plan, and within seconds, he’s dropping down behind them like a shadow. A strong arm wraps around their shoulders, dragging them backward before they can so much as gasp.

“Hi there, stranger!” His voice is sing-song, but his grip is iron. “Funny thing about sneaking around—usually means you’re up to no good. Which, you know, I respect! But also—who the hell are you?”

He hauls them toward a secluded corner, pressing them against a stack of crates. He leans in close, voice lowering to a whisper.

“Let’s make this simple. Talk, and I won’t have to get creative.”