Oliver, the Spider Syndicate captain, stood facing Adam, his mind reeling from the impossible regeneration of the 'Prince's' arm. The sight had solidified his terrifying realization: this was not an opponent he could defeat.
His instincts, honed over years of survival in the treacherous underworld, were screaming at him to get his younger, more promising subordinates to safety. The future of their operations in this region, perhaps even the entire Syndicate's understanding of this new, unforeseen threat, depended on it.
He made a split-second decision. He reached out quickly and grabbed Malkor, the terrified thug who had led him here and was now cowering nearby. Oliver pulled Malkor close, his grip like iron on the man's shoulder.
