It had only been six months since his mother’s murder, && Mercury could admit to being impressed with the speed of his father’s work.

The losses were extremely significant to him - two missing limbs, over half his Aura permanently removed, && his body in a constant state of healing && degradation - but the gains, however minor, were not to be overlooked.

The loss of Aura merely allowed him to hone it to the quality of a fine chef’s blade - with less at his disposal, he was learning to make do with what he could. Two limbs short was teaching him the art of flexibility - when left alone without any means of travel, he’d learned how to travel with only his arms.

It did not outweigh the loss of his limbs, however. His most critical weapons lost would take years to relearn the use of, to establish the quality of his replacements.

A sound echos from above, the assassin’s head snapping up immediately from where he was repeating his own self-made workout. Someone was here. Not his father, if the sound was to be believed - the echoing cadence of this stranger’s steps was too even for a perpetual drunk like his father’s to be a match. Mercury swings down from his position, finding a better, more concealed location from which to observe his quarry when they inevitably entered.

The keypad to the bolt-locked door gave a fizzling sound, beeping in alarm before going silent. Thusly disabled, the door creaks open, allowing the stranger inside.