Zorvak's footsteps echoed softly as he approached, each step deliberate, unhurried, carrying a confidence that did not need to be asserted loudly to be felt.
He stopped just short of Bane, looking down at him with mild interest, as though examining a tool rather than an enemy.
"It's almost disappointing," Zorvak said casually. "All that reputation. All that fear surrounding the name Bane Reign."
His gaze drifted over Bane's immobilized form, unthreatened, unimpressed.
"I expected more… struggle."
Vexor remained silent at his side, eyes sharp, posture relaxed. He did not interrupt. This was Zorvak's moment.
"You see," Zorvak continued, his tone almost instructional, "this world has rules. Crude ones. Simple ones. They bind you whether you acknowledge them or not."
He lifted one finger slightly, as if recalling something trivial.
