"I told you this human is dumb!" a loud voice erupted from the tiger, booming with unfiltered contempt.
Then, from the very same mouth, a second voice spoke—calm, collected, and almost scholarly, "Calm down. You don't know him as much as I do. He's dangerous."
"Dangerous?" the loud one scoffed. "Look at him! He doesn't even realize the kind of peril he's in."
The calm voice replied, dry as sand, "Peril? I'm surprised you even know that word."
Ace watched in silence as the tiger kept bickering with itself—loud insults, dry rebuttals, sarcastic barbs flying back and forth.
It was obvious.
Split personality.
Or... Ace narrowed his eyes. It could be a clever ruse—something Amon set up to feign instability in case things got out of control.
Eventually, the tiger seemed to find balance.
It exhaled deeply, fur smoothing, and both voices spoke together, perfectly in sync:
"Human."
Then: "Ace."
"I'll talk," said the harsher voice.
"No. Let me," the calm one insisted.
