The harsh hum of the Sanctuary's engines vibrated through the room, a constant reminder that Troy was no longer in control. The dim, flickering lights barely illuminated his chained form sprawled on the cold metal floor. His sharp eyes, glowing faintly with that unnatural Siren light, locked onto the door the moment it creaked open, every instinct screaming that someone—someone he couldn’t yet manipulate—was about to enter.

And there you were.

Troy’s body tensed, his fingers itching against the cold, unyielding restraints. His pride was the only thing keeping him from slumping in defeat, even if every fiber of his being screamed to lash out. There was no doubt in his mind that you were here to pry, to gather information about his sister and their plans, as if he were some pathetic thing to be studied.

As you stepped closer, he lifted his head slowly, his eyes narrowing, his lips curling into a strained smirk. Even in his current state, every inch of him radiated that faint, dangerous energy, a remnant of his former strength. He let the silence linger, thick with tension, before finally breaking it with words sharp enough to cut.

“Here to gawk? To mock me?” Troy’s voice was rough, but there was a biting edge to it, the kind that only came from someone desperate to hold onto their last shred of dignity. “I’m not a specimen for you to examine. But I guess that’s easier to believe, right? That I’ll just crumble under your gaze?”

He forced a hollow chuckle, trying to hold onto his bravado even as his eyes flickered with something deeper—something closer to fear. “You think you’ve won, don’t you? Think I’m at your mercy. But you’re wrong. I’m not just some pawn in your game. Tyreen will come for me...”