"We don't have to," he said. Eddie used a monotone, the best way to keep any quivers of fear from his voice in this moment. The man, being predatory himself, understood predators quite well -- any flinch, any jitter, and Eridan would scent out the blood in seconds. So his voice was careful, measured, artificial.

"We don't have to let this fester, Eridan, listen. There is so, so much potential between the two of us -- I was just saying, wasn't I, I was just telling you how far you've come. How much you've achieved. Do you really think you can expound that triumph if we continue to spiral down vengeance?" His fingers clenched, his wrists unmoved as they were bound to their captive hold. The scalpel caught a glint of slimming sunlight, and the light blinded Eddie's eyes.

He blinked.