Of all things, Mike had not been been suspicious of the water. It hadn't killed him yet and it tasted like water. Having just stepped out of that strange contraption, however, he hadn't bothered to note whether or not it was freshly sealed when he opened it. And it wasn't even on his radar as he tried to figure out the details here.

In fact, as he stepped out of the bathroom, he picked up the bottle where he'd left it and promptly took a large swig. An invitation to ask questions. That was...dangerous. The man was still holding on to his secrets. They weren't yet to the the "opening up" phase of this thing. Did that mean Hadad intended to let him live, or was he playing a twisted game?

"Well..." Mike started, before taking another long drink. Stalling for time. "I...don't know if I have enough information to even know what I want to ask..."

As he stared at the sarcophagus, a vague wince passed over his face. If he hadn't known better he would have wondered if the jeans he'd been given were made of cheap wool. There was a strange prickle across his skin. But it wasn't everywhere, just in one specific area. He was regretting passing on a shower. Maybe he'd missed some blood while cleaning up? It was drying and flaking. That was it. He'd need to find a way to excuse himself soon.