[ 'Overlord Imp' has a nice ring to it. Between Alec's satisfaction and Light's gross recount of his time as a brain-hungering zombie, it's enough to satiate her tyranism for the moment.

But either way, Light is safe from consequence. When Alec promises photographic evidence, Aisha turns on him, setting her glass down hard on the floor and gathering a fistful of his shirt instead, her arm tightening around his to stop his inevitable attempt to flee.

Her voice drops in a theatrical stage whisper, all that ire towards Light redirected as she leans her face in conspiratorially close, their fringes brushing. ]

You asshole. You have pictures of moldy zombies in your room, and we're sitting down here talking to Danger Past? You're holding out on me? I want the mold, Alec.

[ A shake for good measure. ]

I. want. the. mold.