Miles had had his clone convinced enough of -- enough of something that he helped spring Miles and Duv from that safehouse, but there's still too wide a rift. And every reach Miles makes at trying to close it, to bring his clone closer, seems to be falling short. There has to be a hook. There's always a hook.

But he can't push too hard. Too hard and he risks losing his clone altogether, and Miles -- Miles can't afford that. He can't let it happen. It's starting to feel like trying to push two magnets of the same polarity together. Every time he starts to get close, there's that push back.

"An ultimately much shorter-lived torture than Vorhalas intended," Miles allows neutrally, inwardly scrambling for something, anything. Outwardly, he offers Mark a shrug. "But you asked." A beat, then he tilts his head, genuinely curious. "Still thinking about killing me?"