He expected at least some kind of token protest, maybe the reminder that Johnny's power has, as confirmed by multiple parties, nearly killed someone and is probably capable of much worse.

He doesn't expect Johnny to go along with it; even less does he expect the shifting of the walls and floor and ceiling, seamless and disturbingly natural compared to the last time he witnessed something like this.

He has to close his eyes against the changes to the architecture that defy convention, that defy physics, and hates that he actively encouraged the use of something Johnny so clearly hates.

Hated?

Does he still?

"How, um," he says, fighting to keep his voice level in the face of something he doesn't want to see. "How long before something - happens?"