Midas and a few others were the only ones who were not laughing. Midas especially had kept his expression neutral. Inwardly though, he was cursing the situation. He was thinking back to the Python that was not in the hands of the Second Seat. Midas needed to get it back.
A slow burning anger stirred inside him but he pushed it down. There would be time for that. Even if there wasn't, Midas would make time. For now, his survival was paramount.
Wasting no more time, Midas launched into his story, recounting the sparse details of his journey here. As he did, he deliberately held back, withholding the nitty gritty details. After all, he could not trust them, especially since he knew that they never even looked at him, and were already treating him as something that was just waiting to be used and divvied up on their plates.
