Evan was in a bad shape, he could tell. For some reason Cold had convinced himself that it was going to fine, a bit weird, but just like the old days. But Evan was so -- lost, a shell of who Cold remembered.

Cold spoke calmly, and a bit more gentle than he normally would, as if McCulloch were injured or bedridden. "Touchin' in."

He paused, considering. Would Mirror Master really be useful when he seemed so -- broken. But Evan was a Rogue, and Rogues watched each other's backs. Maybe this'd be good for the man.

"I'm gettin' the gang back together. I'm bringin' back the Rouges."