The destruction was coming to a close outside of the hotel window. Gideon was getting a good look at it as he poured a shot for Mitchell. It was only hours ago that Irons fell from the tall building, and now the scene was being cleaned up.

Gideon had gotten a few bottles of alcohol, mixing up a martini for when Ilona arrived. Mitchell couldn't help but notice it, "And who's that for?"

"Not you." Gideon was quick to retort, instead handing Mitchell the shot he poured.

Mitchell took another look at the destruction, walking to stand by the window. He noticed a singular body bag being carried into an ambulance, most likely Irons. He looked down at his broken prothetic again, lightly shifting his stumped arm.

Gideon suddenly slapped a hand over Mitchell's shoulder with a friendly shake. "Don't worry. Another can always be built. Won't be the same as that million dollar one."