The door opened with Pierce's characteristic measured pace.
He entered like a man comfortable with authority, hands clasped behind his back, his silver hair perfectly groomed despite the afternoon's activities.
"Well now, gentlemen," Pierce said, his voice carrying that familiar grandfatherly warmth that somehow made his authority feel inevitable rather than imposed.
"I trust you're all prepared for this afternoon's little theatrical performance?"
He moved to stand behind his desk, every gesture deliberate and reassuring. "Marcus, my boy, I need you and your friends to understand something crucial."
He let the words hang for a beat, his eyes sweeping the room, making sure no one dared to look away. Only when he was certain of their silence did he continue.
"Today, you're observers. Silent, respectful observers."
Marcus's jaw tightened slightly. "Sir, why aren't we allowed..."
