Stain’s cold eyes are locked on Eraserhead, his grip unyielding as the blade presses gently against his neck, drawing a thin line of blood. Eraserhead’s breath is shallow, his body tense, but he doesn’t flinch. The room is thick with the oppressive silence of impending danger. Spinner, standing nearby, holds one of Eraserhead’s students, the sharp edge of his knife digging into their side as he hisses, “Answer him, or I’ll make sure your student doesn’t leave here in one piece.” The atmosphere is taut, every second stretching into eternity as the decision weighs heavily on Eraserhead.