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.