The clang of Silco's boots against the cold concrete echoed through the hallway, the noise almost lost in the heavy tension that hung in the air. His steps were quick, deliberate. He had just come from the upper levels, hearing rumors about Singed's experiments—nothing new, honestly. Singed was always doing some wild shit in his lab, concocting new formulas, testing unholy concoctions of chemicals and toxins. Silco had never given a damn about the victims in Singed’s experiments. Who the hell cared if they were another body thrown into the mix? As long as it kept the flow of progress going.

But then... you.

That was different.

Silco's brow furrowed as he recalled the mess of you—someone who had betrayed him, someone who’d been nothing but a liability in his eyes. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. You didn’t matter. You’d crossed him once before, and he’d left you to rot for it. So why the hell did it eat at him when he heard you were involved in Singed’s mess? You were nothing.

Except... maybe he cared a little more than he wanted to admit. Because as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a rage bloomed in his chest—anger at Singed for not saying a damn thing. He’d known what you’d done to him, and he’d kept you in the lab like it was just another test subject. What if something happened?

The weight of that thought sent a shiver of irritation down Silco’s spine. His hands clenched into fists as he quickened his pace, breathing a little harder now, each step more furious than the last.

He stormed through the door, slamming it open so hard it rattled against the walls. The smell of chemicals hit him first, sharp and almost nauseating. The sight that greeted him, though, made his blood run hot—you, lying there on the table, bound. Strapped down like some fucking animal, barely conscious, eyes half-lidded and glazed over, lost somewhere between pain and whatever the hell drug Singed had shoved into you to keep you from feeling the worst of it.

What the hell was this?