"Okay, Desmond, we're going to try and bring you out now."
His lips twitched as he grunted, sitting up. He looked around, calmly, observing his surroundings. It would be easy—so easy—to tear through these walls. He climbed off the table and stood.
"Are you okay?"
He turned to see a blonde-haired woman watching him worriedly. Of course he was okay. He was dead.
"See? I told you he'd be fine." It was an old man.
"Bastards," he growled softly.
"Now, now, I just saved your life."
He walked around the odd table, tapping it with his knuckles. "What is this thing?"
"Animus. It's an Animus."
He stopped at the corner of the Animus, looking at it. The blonde woman was right next to him.
"Why do you need me? Some sort of test subject?"
"You have information we need, Mr. Miles."
There. Again. He wasn't Desmond Miles. That was his bartender back home. "Information?"
"Don't play coy with me. There isn't time. You're an assassin. And whether you realize it or not, you've got something that my employers want. Locked away inside that head of yours."
"I'm not an assassin." He wasn't even human.
"Yes… Your file indicated as much. Something about an 'escape.' Most fortunate for us."
He hummed, tapping his knuckles against the frame. It was clear they wouldn't let him escape without a fight. Whoever Desmond was in his spare time was integral for their operations.
"So, what is it, Mr. Miles? Live, or die? Lie down."
He looked up to see the old man standing by the window. "I'm not Desmond Miles."
"Right, and you also don't have the memories we need. Lie down. I would hate to have to put you in a coma."
The old man sighed, turning to face him as he stood by the machine, giving him a cold stare. He stepped forward, only to have a hand placed on his shoulder. Tensing up and ignoring the urge to kill her—she was a stranger, and he didn't trust anyone, especially those who drugged him—he brushed her hand off and stepped forward.
"Lie down, Mr. Miles."
He didn't say anything, just moved forward until he was standing eye-to-eye with the man.
"Lucy, call—"
He grabbed the man's shoulder and ran the blade through the old man's torso, feeling the virus turn him back into his normal form. Not his usual killing style, but it worked well enough. He looked over his shoulder, staring at the woman—Lucy—under his hoodie.
"Where are we?"
She looked horrified. He let the blade vanish as the sirens went off. They morphed into claws, and he grabbed her.
"Where are we?" he breathed, pulling her close as she struggled. He knew he was intimidating. "And how do we get out of here?"
"P-put me down, and I'll help you!"
His lips twitched, but he did as he was told. She hurried him over to the doors, and entered a code, leading him into the hallways. He walked slower, letting her panic, while he observed where he was. Perhaps he should've just torn down the halls, but if they were dealing with the Infection, he was going to know where and why.
"What did they need Desmond for?"
Lucy stopped and looked behind her. She looked ahead and then looked back. "There isn't tim—"
"Answer my questions, and I'll let you live. The world makes time for me."
Lucy stopped, and he smirked, watching her tremble as his claws appeared again. "D-Desmond held the locations of the Pieces of Eden that they needed."
"Pieces of Eden?"
"Th-this is a Templar company."
Alex drew himself up, enraged. He remembered the Templar insignia on some of the papers from the memories of the men he consumed. So, this company was dealing with the Blacklight virus.
"Templar?" he murmured.
Lucy shivered. "Uh, yes—"
A bullet whizzed by them, and Alex grunted, the biomass shooting out to pick Lucy up and attach her to his back as his arms turned into the hammerfists, smashing them into the ground and watching the shockwave ripples send his enemies flying. In a quick motion, he sent out the whipfist and drug in a soldier, he heard Lucy gasp when he crushed his skull and absorbed him. Summoning his blade, he bolted forward, slicing through the storm of troops and grabbing another, throwing him to ground and smashing his face in before absorbing him. Memories and layouts of the company—Abstergo, his mind supplied—answered his questions. He picked up one of soldiers and whipped in him into the other soldiers before letting him go and watching his body smash into the far wall. He looked around, listening to the quiet briefly before he let Lucy go. She fell on her rump as he picked his way through the carnage to a half living human, and he yanked him up by the collar of his shirt, examining him only momentarily before slicing him in two and absorbing him. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the feel. Turning back to Lucy, he gestured to the elevator.
"Well?"
She was frozen in her spot. "W-what are you?"
Alex reached out, picking her up with an extended arm and dragging her to the elevator. She was shaking. He set her down by the keypad.
"Enter the code."
She punched in the buttons, and it blipped red. "W-what? It's wrong? How!"
Alex frowned, staring at the keypad. She tried again, and again.
"They changed it!"
Without warning, he punched the keypad, destroying it, and forced the door open. "Do they deal with the Blacklight virus here?"
"The what? Blacklight virus?"
Alex frowned as he picked her up and attached her to his back using the virus. She was eerily still, but he wasn't going to complain. He jumped into the elevator shaft, digging the muscled arms into the shaft and climbing down, since he had found out the hard way some humans couldn't handle the landing or the fall.
"D-Desmo—"
"Alex Mercer. Not Desmond Miles."
"Okay, uh, Des—Alex… Why haven't you killed me yet?"
Alex was silent for a minute. "You may be of use to me yet."
"So, you're not going to eat me?"
"I only ate the others because I needed to heal."
"W-what?"
"I was injured by the bullets. When I fight, I don't often feel it, but I do need to regenerate, so I absorb others to heal."
"What are you?"
Alex was silent, climbing down. Eventually, he reached the ground floor and summoned his blade and armor. "I am something less than human, but also something more."
He cut through the elevator door and dashed out, plowing through the enemies as if they were nothing; which, to him, they were. The tanks and the Blackwatch were harder than these idiots were. He tore through them and stopped once the last of them had been absorbed. He let Lucy down, and she looked mortified at the carnage around them.
"What will the others think?" she murmured.
"Do you have someplace we can go?" he asked, walking toward the front door and preparing for an attack.
"Uh…"
"Mr. Mercer."
He paused, looking around the large open foyer. He could hear the voice coming in over the intercom.
"The infamous Mr. Mercer."
He frowned. "Who are you."
"A command? Quite edgy of you, isn't it?"
"Who are you."
"If you insist."
There was silence for a moment.
"Alan Rikkin, CEO of Abstergo."
"A Templar."
"Yes. Imagine how pleased the USA will be to find out that we have their number one terrorist."
"You can't contain me."
"Can't we?"
He harrumphed. "There has never been one who could."
"This is where you are wrong. As we speak, the US troops close in on Dan—"
He roared. "Show your face, coward!"
He snarled at the laughter ringing out through the room. When Lucy placed a hand on his arm, he nearly ripped her head off. She offered a small smile.
"She was in her friend's secret hideout, correct? In Manhattan?"
He curled his lip—how dare they hold her hostage. She pulled him down to whisper in his ear, "We've all ready relocated her. She works for us, now."
He gave her a mistrustful look, but nevertheless, chose to believe her. She could explain herself later.
"Where are you, Rikkin? Show yourself, and let me rend you limb from limb."
That infuriating laugh again—Alex was going to choke him to death, then pull his innards out and listen to him scream. Maybe not in that order.
"And ensure my death? Mr. Mercer, you are stup—"
He ripped the front door from its hinges and started running up the side of the building. He was pissed off now. He would kill that man. He could see a chopper taking off at the top of the building, and he was going to rip it to pieces. He'd take down all of Abstergo if he had to. When he reached the top, he leapt, grabbing bottom and swinging his legs up, digging into the bottom of the chopper and shredding the armor. He crawled in and grabbed the first person, but when it didn't register that he had any memory worthwhile, he threw him away and crawled in absorbing the other solider and lunging at the man beside the pilot, the memories singing to him. His blade changed into claws, and he pulled the man from his seat and absorbed him. He screeched, grabbing his head: Fredrick Mendell.
There was a young man with slicked back black hair and a thin, pinstripe suit. His eyes were a creepy bluish grey, cold and icy. A Russian Blue sat on the corner of his desk, watching them. The walls were adorned with antique weapons, each polished and cared for extensively. In the farthest corners were beautiful cobwebs with large, black spiders crawling on them. There was a desk before him, meticulous and drab, and behind it sat the man. There was a door off to the side, and several men and women dressed in servant's garb standing at the edge of the room. The wallpaper was gold in the dim chandelier light coming from above his desk. The burgundy carpeting looked more like blood from where the man he ate stood. There was a salute.
"Rikkin, sir, we're transporting you to Manhattan. They need you to supervise an experiment."
"Why me, soldier?" His gaze was cold and cruel.
"They've heard of Abstergo's success."
"What is it?"
"Working on a virus named Blacklight. There was an outbreak in two thousand nine, and they want you to help study it."
The memories flashed. A man with short-cropped black hair in a similar suit to Rikkin's listening to the man he ate.
"Charles Hannon will be my stand in."
Another flash.
"Mendell—into the helicopter!" It was that Charles man.
"Where are you going, sir?"
"I'm going underground until they find that Goddamn assassin hideout. I'll be there to fire the last shot into ZEUS's head."
With a snarl, he snapped from the memories and ripped the pilot from his seat, absorbing him. So the man was underground—he'd get him yet. The assassin hideout is where Lucy would take him. He touched the chopper to the ground a few meters away from the compound and beckoned Lucy to come out, the grounds eerily silent. She darted to the helicopter and climbed in as he climbed out.
"Wait here," he growled, "or I will hunt you down and kill you."
He walked to the base as he saw the activity within. A collection of bullets burst from the windows, and he started gathering biomass in his arms. His lip curled, and he grunted as he pounded into the ground, disregarding the chaos around him. Tall, thick, spikes of biomass ripped into the building, and he reveled in the cracks he heard, the groaning of the building. One more should take care of it. It was too tall and heavy to keep up—ill prepared and hardly suited for a military base. They never saw it coming.
He let the biomass accumulate a second time, the bullets dinging and whizzing around him. He pounded the ground again. The graveyard spikes dug into the building, and he heard it crack. It was going to fall. He dashed to the helicopter and took it in the air as the first beam gave way. Lucy screamed as the loud boom took place, and he threw the helicopter into the fastest that it could go, moving into the distance as the entire Abstergo building collapsed. He grunted when debris smacked into the chopper, rocking and lurching it, and he tilted it to the side, trying to get out of the dust cloud. He took it higher—then higher still.
"Where is that assassin hideout?"
"Wha—"
"Where is the assassin hideout!" he roared over the din.
"To the north!"
He used the compass to get it turned north; he heard a crack and a boom, and Lucy screamed—he was holding onto her, covering her with biomass as they fell. He landed with a thud, the building shattering under his impact, and he kept moving north to escape the rubble and the dust, eventually slipping into an alleyway and letting Lucy out as he panted. He rested an arm on the dumpster, and his head on his arm. When he inhaled and got a snoot full of dust, he shucked the jacket-layer of biomass and straightened, wrapping it around Lucy, who had an arm over her nose and mouth. He covered her head with it and pushed her head into his neck as they hid behind the dumpster. For once, he thanked the fact he wasn't human. He could feel the dust with every inhale.
He closed his eyes and slid down the wall, holding Lucy in place. He pulled the jacket to cover both their heads and looked down to find the woman's brown eyes studying him as she rested her head on his shoulder, no longer paying attention to the dust with the protection of the jacket. He watched her chest rise up and down a few times to reassure himself she was still alive, then closed his eyes.
"Still doing okay?" he mumbled. "You're still breathing."
"I guess."
It was quiet and frightened, and Alex supposed that he couldn't blame her, not really.
"What happened back at Abstergo?"
Alex exhaled. He could still feel the dust whipping around him and decided he'd better pass the time. He told her everything he could remember, from absorbing the men to recover his memory of being a scientist at Gentek to the final fights with the Infected. By the time he was done, he could feel the thick layer of dust coating them. Lucy was quiet. He waited patiently, moving his legs up and down to free them.
"You're…"
"A killer, a terrorist, and a monster—I am something less than human—"
"No, you're not," she murmured as he jerked his arms free of the dust. "You're a protector."
He scoffed as he pulled them from the dust. "No."
"Otherwise, you wouldn't have continually gone back for Dana, or bothered to keep me alive. You wouldn't have disappeared when Dana flinched at you trying to touch her. You would've killed me for my knowledge instead of keeping me alive."
He was quiet as he helped her onto his back, letting the jacket slump to the ground and reabsorb through his foot, only to reappear. As he leapt onto the building and started running, he shook his head. After everything he had been through, he couldn't find it in him to believe her. He knew what he was, and it was nothing good.
"No, I'm not."
"Watch. I'm sure you'll save us next time, too."
Alex was quiet. His movements were hindered by the incredible amount of dust, but he was still moving quickly. He felt Lucy look behind them.
"We need to get rid of these tracks."
"No, we don't."
She opened her mouth to protest.
"Where the hideout is, Charles Hannon is. And where Charles is, I will be," he growled.
Lucy was quiet almost the entire time, speaking only to give him directions as they leapt from roof to roof, eventually landing on a warehouse in the middle of nowhere.
"This it?"
She nodded, and he leapt from the roof, landing with a thud and letting her down. She opened the door and led him in, and Alex let him slip back into Desmond's skin.
"Tell me about what's going on here," he demanded, and she jumped when she heard Desmond, but quickly went to fill him in.
Once they reached the top, she turned and looked at him. "So, will you help us?"
Alex took in her figure. She didn't look much like a fighter, but then again, he had been surprised by plenty of the people he'd met. He folded his arms. "If I do, we do it on my terms."
She winced. "And what would those be?"
"Pack everything up and get ready to run. Charles Hannon isn't going to wait."
She sighed. "Will you at least give us the memories?"
He frowned. "There's no time to waste."
She scowled. "Look, all we're asking for is the memories. Will you give us those?"
He put on his emotionless face. "Yes. Let's go. I don't need any of you injured."
She sighed again and led him into the room. A woman with black hair noticed her and stood.
"Lucy! Ya made it!" He watched the women embrace, the happy expressions on their faces, and he briefly wondered if he had ever been like that. "It's been so long! Seven years, can you believe it?"
"Indeed," came a British voice, and Alex felt his (Desmond's) hackles rise. "Welcome back." There was no hug, not even a handshake as he watched the man give him a thorough onceover. "Ah, so this must be the infamous Subject 17. Desmond Miles, was it?"
He met his stare with an icy look. "Who are you?"
"I'm sorry: where are my manners? I'm Shaun Hastings. And this is Rebecca Crane."
"Nice to meet you, Desmond," she said, and he shook hands with her tentatively. He was still paranoid.
"Right, well, it's been lovely chatting, but if you don't mind, Desmond, it's best we get straight to work. Time is precious, doubly so these days."
Alex gave him a cool glance as he went to turn around, and Lucy grabbed his shoulder.
"We're, uh, changing plans."
"What?" Rebecca said. "I just got Baby hooked up!"
Lucy bit her lip as she turned to look at Shaun when he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a worried look. "We're getting ready to move. I'm a week early, and we're leaving soon. Pack up and get ready to high-tail it."
"Are you okay, Lucy?" Shaun asked. "It's not like you—"
"This isn't Desmond. Desmond is dead, gone, finished."
"What?" Rebecca said, and she knocked on Alex's chest. "He looks and sounds like Desmond."
Alex sloughed of Desmond's appearance, causing the other two to step back as Alex stared at the British man, making his threat clear, like an alpha staking his position. Shaun scowled and drew himself up slightly.
"What the Hell is he? Some sort of alien from Doctor Who?"
"He's something called the Blacklight virus, and he… well…"
"I killed Desmond and absorbed him. His DNA is now mine."
Shaun raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Well, Mister Purplelight, into the Animus with you—"
"We're packing and getting ready—"
"I don't think so—"
He effectively ended all further protests by grabbing Shaun with his claws and hoisting him in the air, drawing him close so he could breathe on his face and growl, "You are packing."
Shaun was squirming, a terrified look on his face, and it took everything he had in him to set the man down instead of throwing him out the window. Rebecca had backed away, and Shaun scrambled quickly to his station. Their eyes were trained on him warily. Lucy shifted in her spot.
"So, uh, let's pack up, okay? He said he'd give us the memories—"
"As long as I don't have to touch that freak and he doesn't touch me, we'll all be good," Shaun said, flattened against his desk.
Alex turned and started walking out.
"Where are you going?" he heard Rebecca call. He turned around to see her staring warily.
"I'm going to kill Charles Hannon."
He walked off, knowing Lucy would fill them in. He leapt out a window and ran to the top of the building. It was midnight before someone came to check on him as he sat there and watched the landscape.
"So, did you know Desmond?" Rebecca said as she sat beside him. She looked almost like Dana.
"Yes. He was a bartender at the bar I frequented before I became infected."
"What happened?"
"I took him to Dana's safe house, and he survived the infection. After they rebuilt Manhattan, I fled to the red zone. I monitored who entered and who exited."
"Really?"
"I was a legend among the people. Those who were carted in often expressed interest in getting a glimpse of who I was. They rarely did, guarded heavily by the military, who knew my clothes better than their own."
"And Desmond?"
Alex shook his head, feeling unwanted emotions from Desmond's memories bubbling. "He became infected, somehow, and when I saw his escort, I swooped in and snatched him. They had run out of Bloodtox, the cure, and they couldn't risk keeping him or the others in the yellow district. I have vision that allows me to see how infected people are, and his body was roughly fifteen percent infected. When I asked him how it happened after I took him to my house, he couldn't remember."
"After that?"
Alex leaned forward, feeling the strong emotions rising. "He was going to die. He had so many regrets."
He tensed when she wrapped an arm around him. "So what did you do?"
"I soothed several of them."
"How?"
He glanced at her under his hood. "Do you really have to know?"
He saw Rebecca's eyes light up with mischievous glee. She looked so similar to Dana. "Dirty secrets?"
He didn't respond, and she scooted closer, nudging his side. She bounced back much more quickly than Dana—but then again, he didn't stay after he tried to touch her.
"Now I have to know. Come on. Spill it."
He couldn't fight the smile that was tugging at his lips as she nudged him again. When he didn't respond, she tackled him, and he caught her as she tried to get him into a headlock. He pried her off, turning to look at her as he held her at arms' length.
"Fine. I'll tell you."
She squirmed in his arms, grinning as he set her down. He jumped when she plopped her head into his lap and looked up at him expectantly. "Well?"
He stared at her.
"If you think I'm gonna let your creepy tentacle-claw thing frighten me off, you're wrong bub." She winked. "I happen to enjoy a good tentacle rape."
His eyes must have gotten wider, because she started laughing. He still wasn't used to dealing with people—he had left Dana in the green zone so he could go make the rest of Manhattan safe for her. When he did see her, it was brief, but she was just like this Rebecca Crane. He was learning, slowly. Being a virus dominated by the memories of a sociopath with homicidal tendencies made getting along with others a little more difficult. He scowled at her then leaned back on his hands to stare at the stars. Of all the people he absorbed, there were so many different beliefs, and he found himself wondering if Desmond was one of those stars, twinkling down so merrily and watching his every move.
"So, what'd you do? Give me fodder for a story."
He looked down at her again, then looked back to the stars. "I snuck him into the green zone and took him in his bed that night."
"How?"
"How?"
"Yeah, how?"
He quirked an eyebrow, and she smiled innocently. He rolled his eyes. "Hard. Rough. He moaned like a whore."
"Really?" He gave her a cool stare, and she hummed. "I would've loved to see that. Bet it was hot, wasn't it?"
"We slept in late, and he enjoyed the feeling of another with him. I made him a late breakfast, and we went to Central Park, then I—"
"Wait! What'd you do at Central Park?"
He blinked at her, then looked away. "We sat by the water and watched clouds."
"Were you cuddling? Holding hands?"
"Yes."
"To which?"
"To both."
"Really?"
"He was my only friend before I died. It was the least I could do for him as he died."
"Aw… that's cute."
He looked down at her, and she smiled softly.
"Did you kiss?"
He hesitated. "Yes."
"Oh, it was one of those adorable kisses, wasn't it?"
"I wouldn't call it that."
"Stupid manly men. I bet it was. What about the gay bashers?"
He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow.
"What? You didn't! You killed them, didn't you!"
He wiggled his nose as he gazed at the stars.
"What about after that?"
"I took him out to eat at a high-end restaurant. We ate on the deck so he could watch the sunset."
"Classically romantic. And after that?"
"I took him to a good hotel."
She grinned almost evilly. He'd have to watch out for her and Dana together.
"I bathed him and gave him a massage."
"Naw, that's adorable! And lemme guess, you made love to him after that?"
She squealed when he felt the heat rise to his cheeks.
"You are such a cute romantic!"
"It was what he wanted."
She squealed again, and he frowned.
"By the time he fell asleep, he was fifty percent infected. I guess whatever fluid I released in mimicry of ejaculation helped combat the infection slightly since I have a different strain, but any more and he would've been in pain. An hour or so after he fell asleep, I snapped his neck and absorbed him."
They were silent for a minute before Alex shook his head. "And when I combed his memories, there was only one that could've targeted who infected him. The person injected him in the back and fled before he could find out. That was almost two years ago that he died."
"Lucy said you didn't know who he was."
"I had forgotten. I tried not to dwell on it. He was another casualty of war."
"He didn't mean something more to you?"
"Of course he did—to the other me, the human me. He and I would sit and talk after work, and we'd share stories and talk about our paranoia. Sure, I got strong emotions when I saw him, but those are only memories of emotions."
"You make it sound as if you can't feel anything."
"I can't. I'm a virus."
"So, if I kissed you, I'd become infected?"
"I don't know."
"If I fucked you, I'd become infected?"
"I don't know, but I think that you would."
"If I was infected, I could do that awesome blade thing?"
"I don't know. All I know is that I can infect people, and that I am a virus."
"Hm… Would you infect me?"
"No."
"Why not?"
He cast a glance at Rebecca, who was looking at him with an eyebrow raised. "Will you ever stop asking questions?"
"Nope. Why won't you infect me?"
"It's not as glorious as you'd think."
"Are you kidding?" she shouted. "That would be fucking awesome, man! Luce told me all about what you did to Abstergo and the building—and the chopper? Man alive!"
He sighed, gazing out over the warehouses. He felt like he was still in Manhattan. No wonder his bartender had been paranoid. He had the Templars after him. Although, it still wasn't quite as bad as him.
"Why isn't it as cool as—"
"I'm America's number one most wanted terrorist and murderer. If I bleed, there's no telling who I could infect. I have the containment group Blackwatch, the US military, and shortly hereafter, the world's military after me."
"What makes you say that?"
"Charles Hannon will have alerted the others to my status here."
Rebecca nodded thoughtfully. "So then, you're a one-man war."
"Precisely."
"Why not collect more soldiers then?"
"I tried with a man in Manhattan. He tried to murder me."
"What happened?"
"I grabbed him in time to make him take the shot of Bloodtox. It killed him."
"Bloodtox?"
"The cure. I'm partially immune to it."
"Really?"
"Yes. I had a doctor keep up to date with the cures, and he made me shots to immunize me."
"What was his name?"
"Why?"
"So we can recruit him, and he can keep helping you."
Alex gave her a hard onceover.
"Look, you can trust us. I know it's kinda wonky we want memories of the man you ate, but…"
"Leave him be. He didn't want to be a part of it anyway."
She nodded. "Cool. I heard Lucy's getting Dana transferred."
He let the corner of his lip curl upward. "It'll be nice to see her again."
Rebecca squealed, and he jumped.
"You are such a cute person!"
He frowned.
"You are! Oh my God, I wish I had an older brother like you!"
He looked away. "I left her with my parents to attend a university. She has every right to hate me. I murder innocents to replenish my own strength. I'm inhuman."
"Naw, man, she sounds cool. I'm sure you're just overreacting. She was happy all the other times you dropped in, right?"
He shrugged. "I suppose so."
"I think that you're awesome, Alex. You know: I'm gonna be able to sleep safe tonight knowing you're here."
He looked at the roof of the warehouse. "I won't let them harm you."
"I trust you—even if you don't trust yourself."
He lay back and gazed at the stars, wishing her away. She crawled over him and smiled.
"You need to have more faith in yourself, Alex. I think you're a better person than you think. The thing is, you're just upset because you had to kill lots of people in Manhattan to protect Manhattan. Besides, I bet the military killed more people than you."
He smirked as she settled on top of him. "There was one time when a tank destroyed its own base."
"Seriously?"
He chuckled softly. "Yes."
Rebecca was silent as they lay together. She did look a lot like Dana. After a few minutes, he could feel the questions bubbling again.
"So, why did you want to forget Desmond?"
"He was my only friend. The memories are painful."
She hummed, resting her head against his chest and yawning. "So when will Charles get here?"
"No idea."
It wasn't too much longer before he was carrying her back inside the warehouse, fast asleep in his arms. He set her on a sleeping bag, the beds packed and ready to go. He looked to find Lucy typing away at a computer, and Shaun looking over her shoulder, biting his finger. They looked to acknowledge him, and he frowned.