"Oh really," Dremmick started as he paced the room. "No kidding, someone takes up a job and is excited about helping someone and getting paid, and you are surprised when they don't want to be your creepy magic slave for a few years? Come off it. I didn't keep your head on your shoulders for you to act coy and give me vague answers. Tell us what you were doing, what this 'experiment' was, and please, by all means, come up with some reason for us not to kill you so you don't come back."

Dremmick stopped pacing and his lone eye was fixed on the woman. His arms were crossed and his gaze was piercing. Oddly, between Ander and himself, it was usually Dremmick who did the interrogations in their old group's past. Did he want to kill her? Absolutely, but he was starting to realize it's not himself that is calling for blood, so through some effort he is restraining himself. Instead, Dremmick has a slight hope that this is something blown way out of proportion, but so far by the looks of things, he couldn't make heads or tails of any of it.