The Hydra hideout didn't feel the same once Rhys had entered it. His presence lingered, like smoke that never quite left the walls. The air wasn't heavy, just tense, as if holding its breath. Even when he wasn't in sight, everyone still knew exactly where he was. His footsteps carried through the old wood and stone, never loud, but always there. A quiet reminder: he hadn't left.
He wouldn't talk much, just have as little interaction as possible, as long as he understood what he was looking at it was fine by him. What he did was watch.
Rhys took the measure of each of them in turn, slowly, thoroughly, without apology. He drifted through the hideout like he belonged there, sometimes standing beside the worktables, sometimes pausing at windows, sometimes just listening from the next room. A quiet evaluation. Not curiosity. Just... inventory.
