Jason didn't even hear Phil enter, and he whips around so fast that he nearly trips over the chair he's standing by. The Avox whimpers in the corner, nursing a lip that's bleeding over her chin.

"Really? You're holding a gun against me? Maybe you want me to have sent in a machete, so Nick could have hacked you up nice and proper." His face is flushed, and it makes his lips look white in comparison, makes the cruel smirk he gives Phil all the more ghoulish. It's an expression without humor, without warmth, all callousness.

"What are you even doing in here?"