Apollo feels sick. It's the same kind of stomach turning, uncomfortable alarm that he'd felt when he'd found Midnigher's mask under his fucking pillow. They're being played, he knows it. And the idea that someone - or something - had been digging around in his bed and somehow managing to steal from those he loved most was a weird kind of violation in itself.

"This place just keeps finding more and more ways to fuck with our heads, doesn't it?" Apollo replies, voice low and unhappy. He shoots a glance around the room, checking that there's nobody close enough to overhear, before quietly admitting:

"But you're not alone. I received a little 'present' from home too..."

It's the first he's mentioned this to anybody. The mask was his secret, an abuse and a treasure all at once. Apollo doesn't hide how uncomfortable he is as he adds in a whisper:

"I found something. Something that belonged to my husband. And I found it under my pillow of all places..."