Malachi's laughter echoed through the mansion, a sound as cold and unyielding as the stone he commanded. "Come now, gentlemen. Surely you can do better than that? Or have I overestimated even your meager abilities?"
Gustavo gritted his teeth, fighting against the weight of the stone slab pinning him down. His muscles strained, veins bulging as he struggled to push himself up. But his body betrayed him, movements sluggish and uncoordinated. 'Damn this poison,' he thought bitterly. 'Of all the times for it to flare up...'
Mordred, his legs still encased in rock, thrashed wildly. His eyes darted between Malachi and Gustavo, confusion evident in his gaze. 'What's wrong with him?' Mordred wondered, noticing Gustavo's uncharacteristically slow movements. 'I've never seen him this... off.'
