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"W-Why are you doing this," she asked after regaining some composure. "What did we ever do to deserve this? Your father, what did he do to deserve this? He's been nothing but good to this family."

The eldest son watched sympathetically as his mother trembled before him, but he kept the gun leveled at her.

"I'm sorry, Mom, it's just – we don't want him to die, okay? He just needs to be out of the way. We found out that Dad plans to give most of his money to different charities after he dies. We're not about to let what's rightfully ours go to a bunch of needy peasants or unfortunate fools."

"So you chose to induce him into a coma so that his next of kin could take over his assets," Tymon surmised. "Then you lied to your mother because you didn't know how she'd react. But in case she became a problem, I bet there's a dose waiting for her too."

"Exactly like the others," Michael commented.

"Others? This happens frequently?" Alissia asked.

"Yes, I have witnessed this multiple times among the wealthy and privileged. This often happens when a disagreement affects one or more members' financial status. Sometimes it also occurs when one member simply wants more money due to greed or debt. Or if they don't want to share their inheritance."

Michael looked at the sons.

"They were either going to try to figure out a way around their father's will before he died or buy the charities their father's money would be sent to. If things escalated and they became desperate, they would probably let the poison kill their father, then try to make it seem like his death resulted from a hospital's carelessness, then sue the hospital," he said as he eyed them carefully.

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"No, they wouldn't do something like that," the mother said, refusing to believe her sons could commit patricide.

The middle son backed away and aligned his gun at Michael's face.

"Okay, you're not just a doctor. Who the hell are you? Have you been spying on us?"

Michael's expression remained unfazed.

"No, I have not been spying on you. As I said, you are not the first unimaginative spoiled humans I have encountered. As for your first question...."

Suddenly, multiple strands of light emanated from Michael's index finger and wrapped around the sons' weapons. With a simple flex of his finger, the threads cut through the guns as if they were made of butter.

In disbelief, the sons looked at their broken guns as their brains tried to register what had happened. Then, with frightened expressions, they looked at Michael. Horrified, they turned to try to run, but Tymon was now standing in front of the door they used to enter the room.

They stumbled over each other, and he fell onto their butts. Still, they tried to put more distance between themselves and everyone else until they bumped into the wall. With nowhere else to go, the middle son panicked to the point that he urinated and began to cry.

"Guys, this is sad; it feels like we're bullying them," Alissia commented sympathetically.

"Though this is unsightly, they put themselves in this predicament," Trik proclaimed.

"Give us the antidote and antivirus," the mother ordered, having fully gathered her nerves.

"We can't," the eldest son retorted. "We lost the antidote. We've been looking for it all day...just in case anyone found it and figured out what we did."

"What about the antivirus," she pressed.

"We never knew anything about needing an antivirus, so we didn't buy any," he replied.

Suddenly the mother grew angry and slapped him.

"Your father would be disappointed in you," she hissed.

"Each of you," she added, looking at the other two.

She turned to Michael with tears in her eyes.

"Isn't there anything you can do," she pleaded.

"Of course there is," Michael responded. "However, it won't be pleasant to watch."