Back from the dead

Roman watched closely as his longtime comrade's friendly demeanor evaporated, replaced by something far more imposing and familiar. Thorne's expression shifted—where once there was warmth, now there was only a blank, impassive mask. His eyes, once alive with casual ease, had hardened into chips of ice, glinting with a cold, calculating edge. Every trace of the man Roman had met a few days ago is gone and buried beneath a ruthless exterior that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.