He trails off, a dark laugh rumbling in his chest, low, guttural, like rocks grinding together.

“Well… I’ll make sure hell feels like a paradise compared to what’s coming for them.” His voice drops to a growl, so quiet I almost miss it. “They’ll beg for mercy. And I’ll watch them burn.”

The air still hums with his threat when the door creaks open. Mom steps in, her white coat crisp, clipboard in hand.

Her eyes flick between us, unreadable.

“The samples are in the lab, the results should be back by tomorrow afternoon. Until then…” She pauses, her gaze lingering on Malcolm’s tight jaw. “Try not to do anything...