The turtle's new arrival is sitting half-slumped on the ground, and is not in a good way.

Daniel is liberally coated in what appears to be his own blood, his right sleeve is pushed up to reveal a new, angry brand mark on his wrist that looks like a sideways E, and his head is bobbing wearily as he mumbles to himself. It's the same two phrases, over and over, and the translation magic wavers in and out. "Ya amerikanets. Ya khochu advokata. I'm an American. I want a lawyer."