I take another sip of my tea, hoping that I didn't just curse myself, or break my cover, or otherwise screw up in a massive way.

"It's nothing, really." I insist. "I've definitely dealt with worse." Have I? I'm not so sure. Physically, probably not. But mentally, oh most definitely. Being drugged and tortured by an agent of Messiah is sort of... if not expected, at least it's not a surprise. As one of precisely four people who can take care of the Messiah problem for good, I'm obviously a bigger target than any other humans.