When questioned, Flynn claimed he did not know where the heart was. He said the torso was the only thing he found. He barely remembered what happened inside the mountain.
According to him, he walked into the storm, and the next thing he knew, he was outside again with the torso in his arms.
His tone was calm, never faltering or hesitating for even a moment.
Robert believed him without hesitation. "Flynn would never lie to me," the Patriarch said confidently.
Mark disagreed. Perhaps because he had spent more time with Flynn. Inside the laboratory. Outside, in quieter moments between procedures.
He had seen the subtle changes. The deeper gaze. The guarded pauses before answers.
The boy, now no longer truly a child, was lying.
Mark was certain of it.
But he said nothing.
He was not Latros' hound. He was a doctor. A researcher. A scientist. His loyalty was to discovery, not to obedience.
After Flynn brought out the torso, the storm vanished.
