The Art of Breaking

Somewhere underground.

The room was cold. Stone walls. A single bulb hanging from rusted wire.

Thorne was strapped to a steel chair, his wrists bound tight with barbed cable. Blood dripped from his nose, mouth, and a split above his brow. One eye was swollen shut. His shirt, once white, was soaked—sweat, blood, and whatever Roth’s men had done to him.

Across from him stood a man in black. Silen