(His eyes narrow, jaw clenched tight as he steps forward) Rodney Copperbottom: "You know, we used to be friends. Real friends. Back when I still thought that mattered. Back when I thought being good—being me—was enough." (He paces, fists balled, voice rising) "I looked up to you. You had the spark, the drive, the voice that made people listen. And I thought, 'If I just keep building, if I just keep believing, maybe I’ll get there too.'" (He stops, staring hard, voice trembling with fury) "But then I saw it. The way they welcomed you. The way you slid into those meetings like you belonged. Like you were built for it. And me? I was the outsider. The charity case. The dreamer who didn’t know when to quit." (He slams a wrench onto the table with a loud clang) "And when Rachid took over, you didn’t flinch. You stood right beside him. While he gutted everything Bigweld stood for, you just… watched. Maybe you even helped."