He watches, listens—and doesn’t for a second let his gaze stray to the shelf where the disk is hidden. He’s focused on Clu anyway, his position in the room, where his eyes move to, his expression. There’s still no hint of suspicion in any of it and when Clu finally gets to the point, Alan realizes why.

“Oh.” It’s the only thing he can think to say. Clu’s assumption—that the Savrii had taken his disk as the cost for his resurge—seems obvious in retrospect, but this is the first time Alan has considered it all the same.

Alan doesn’t tend to believe in fate, much less that the universe could have any interest in testing him. But even he can recognize the absurd, ruthless perfection of the opportunity before him. All he would have to do is stay quiet. Nod along, murmur some insincere condolences, and in perhaps a week, Clu would be… neutralized. Alan isn’t quite sure how it works; would Clu fall apart physically or only mentally? He knows the damage would eventually be irreparable either way, nor does he imagine anyone would have much interest in repairing him even if it were possible.

...Anyone who was capable of it, at least.

The grimace that crosses Alan’s face is at least easy enough to mistake for a reaction to unpleasant news.

“Have you told Rinzler yet?”