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After the clone was carted away by other Death hunters, Kostya took some time to fill out the appropriate mission report with details regarding its capture, the other clone they'd seen, and the thing laying prone at the bottom of the pit that looked a lot like a Jack clone.

He was ready to turn it in, now.

Kostya knocked on Caelius' door.

"Sir? Have report."

Kostya turned his head, slightly.

That is, he turned his head, sightly, to witness the incoming storm that was Mark and Caelius-- or to put their names in the proper order of importance, Caelius and Paperwork and then Mark-- with that same sort of look he always had, which was a cross between a blank page and a dead fish, leaning towards the dead fish.

But only by approximately 28%.

And his answer to Caelius' question was almost a cheeky why not both, except with the accent so it would be vhy not both which could, very easily, be misconstrued as vie, not both, a nigh philosophical question, and so instead he stayed silent just for a moment.

(Maybe it really had been Kostya's blood from the future, a very near future, if Kostya didn't soon spit out what he was thinking.)

"Sir," Kostya started, "have capture clone of Obadiah Thompson for your study. The second clone ve saw of Thompson did not capture, and escape. Also have new information regarding different set of clone, vuns made of Jack Hawthorn, Life division."

And there it was: several months of work that had actually happened in a singular mission that just took too long to actually do because this narrator was also in an alternate universe, killing dragons, and spent an entire age killing these dragons, and also romancing shirtless buff baras with big horns and giant man pecs that probably jiggle when he flexes, but back to the point:

All of Kostya's work was now in Caelius' cruel, cruel hands. Amen.

This narrator wants the other narrator to know that while wall was surely very kind and generous, Caelius had most definitely killed people with his bare hands, or at least his bare scythe, although it's been a while since the heads have rolled.

But this wall digresses. To the subject at hand!

Kostya looked at Mark and wondered, vaguely, if he needed the Heimlich manoeuvre, or something else equally dangerous and helpful at the same time. At least Caelius' glare wouldn't break Mark's ribs.

Probably. Sort of. Most likely.

"Uhm," the Russian said, blinking, and moved towards the door, hoping that Caelius meant take me to your leader captured quarry, and not the mission report.

Wait. Maybe that was not the best idea. He laid the papers down somewhere on a blank space (was that a chair, beneath all that paper? Had it it been, once upon a time, before it had become a paperworktableself?)

"Is in containment." Kostya said, "can bring you to clone?"

Kostya did not have many strong feelings about nearly anyone and anything, but he especially did not feel inferior to poor starving Chinese children in third world factories, who if they were so superior they wouldn't be in those workshops, would they?

Let no one forget that Kostya is an a*****e. An a*****e that very recently tossed a baby up in the air only for it to land in Rep's burly, freckled arms.

"I vill bring you the clone," he said, and turned to fetch the clone from the containment facility, located in [REDACTED].

(It saved them from an awkward walk with even more potentially awkward small talk, which was a blessing for the two of them, but moreso for the narrators who really would need to stretch to make it believable between these two. Things like How about that sunny weatherand Have you heard about the training dummy and What about that cafeteria coffee would never be heard between these two.

Thank god.)

After some time, Kostya returned with the Clone, bound and restrained and reluctant. It was reminiscent of someone trying to walk a cat, possibly in the rain.

Kostya paused to look at the clone, then back at Caelius, then back at the clone. A trickle of sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

"Clone start off with little knowledge and must be train. They learn very fast. Do not know origin first hand, but vord is that is create by famine. Have only seen clones of Obadiah first hand, but others exist now also. They cannot be kill in normal vays. Cut off limb, it vill seek out the rest of body."

Caelius did say show, but he did not think it pertinent to try and dismember it in his office. Especially because he wasn't strong enough to cleave one apart in any reasonable amount of blows.