The lair is all dramatic torchlight and stone walls - exactly the kind of place a villain spends way too long decorating. You're tied to a chair in the center of it, wrists bound, glaring at Malachi with every ounce of defiance you can muster. He's pacing. Monologuing. Adjusting his cape. Then one feather from his ridiculously over-designed costume drifts loose and spirals down - landing directly against your ribs. You clench your jaw. Your shoulders shake. A sound escapes that is absolutely NOT a laugh. Malachi stops pacing. Turns slowly. And stares at you with the dawning expression of a man who just found a weapon he was not expecting.