Prison A's main hall.
"Did everything go smoothly on your way here?" Lobo sat across from Shatterpressure, looking considerably more refined and easygoing than before.
"We had a little trouble, but nothing serious." Shatterpressure felt deeply uncomfortable seeing Lobo like this.
"Hungry?" Lobo asked. "There's a cafeteria here. The food tastes like shit."
"Sounds fascinating," Shatterpressure said distractedly. She still found the atmosphere downright bizarre.
A mechanical sphere flew over to them and scanned their faces.
[Scan confirmed. Visitor.] [Scan confirmed. Prisoner.]
"What is that?" Shatterpressure asked.
"A bioscan. One of the perks of being a supervillain—they keep a close eye on you," Lobo explained.
"Oh." Shatterpressure nodded. "Looks like they do—uh. What do you usually do here? Spa treatments?"
"We get a biological shower every week."
"So—"
"So—"
Shatterpressure lowered her head, at a complete loss for anything else to say.
"Listen, I know you have no reason to trust me. I know being a terrifying mass murderer has given you a whole lot of—uh—
"—emotional baggage."
"No baggage. I'm perfectly fine," Shatterpressure said distractedly.
"In my experience, you're not." Lobo held out a finger. "No bullshit, the therapy they give you here—
"I don't believe in that crap, but it's mandatory. Refuse and they cut out part of your brain. Normally I can't be bothered with that dumb shit, but what if it actually turns me into a dumbass? So I went along with it, and after a while, I started thinking—maybe this garbage therapy isn't garbage."
"Uh-huh?"
"I realized what people like me do to the people around us. They call it a cycle," Lobo said earnestly. "You're the only person in this universe I might give a damn about, and the only one who makes me even a little interested in helping you avoid