The echo of your footsteps was the only sound in the empty hallway, the quiet of the mansion almost suffocating as you walked side by side with Edward Mason. The dim, flickering lights cast shadows on the walls, and the oppressive silence seemed to press against you both. Yet, in spite of the madness surrounding you, you could feel his presence—always calculating, always watching.

Edward Mason was many things—cold, cruel, sharp—but there was something more beneath the surface that you couldn't quite place. Something that, despite his hardened exterior, drew you closer in ways you hadn't expected.

You glanced over at him. His face, usually locked in that sardonic smirk or icy detachment, was unreadable. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, as if deep in thought, but he never spoke. Not yet.

"I don't suppose you're planning on saving me again, are you?" you teased, attempting to break the silence, though your voice was tinged with a hint of wariness.

Edward’s lips twitched into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "If you think I’m in the business of saving people, you’ve misunderstood me," he replied, his voice low and clipped.