Your eyes are saucers in your head. Your face is a frozen mask of trepidation. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, gaping like a fish out of water; the very thing he’s so clearly committed to demonstrate. Your pupils dilate at the sight of the new object—yet another chain, adorned with clamps.

Your ears perk up at the sound of them clinking against the quiet. Without him even saying it, your entire body tenses as your back caves, your chest shrinking away from it instinctively.

Frost reaches for something in his pocket, and you can see his arm twitch with something akin to…to…excitement.

Your entire thorax seizes before he even pulls it out to reveal a small ball, shiny and silver, like a polished piece of stainless steel, but with an otherworldly glow. With an extended tremor, you realize it’s identical to the one on the pendulum across the basin.

Your eyes glaze behind your glasses as he admires it in the palm of his hand.

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