Magnus was breathing heavily, the veins in his neck bulging. The humiliation was a physical heat on his skin. He'd been challenged, belittled, and then utterly dismissed in front of his rivals and his own men. Before he could erupt, a cool, slicing voice cut through the air.
"Fascinating," Dr. Aris Thorne mused, adjusting her goggles as if studying a disappointing specimen. "The Ironblood's solution to every problem is volume of muscle or of voice. It proved ineffective against the 'Ghost', and it was pathetically ineffective against that man. Your paradigm is obsolete, Magnus."
