Mitosis

> > “Yeah,” I said, looking out the window. “Mitosis’s weakness was his own music.”

> > [...]

> > “He loathed the music,” I said. “His own art. There’s something here, Prof. Something we haven’t noticed yet.”

He hated it because he was “classically trained” in music and he believed that the music his band used was repetitive.

> > He shook his head. “I was trained classically, you know,” he said.

> > I frowned. This was a change from the talk of torture, murder, and other sunny topics. “What?”

> > “Trained classically,” Mitosis said. “I was the only one in that band who knew his way around an instrument. I wrote song after song, and what did we play? Those stupid, stupid riffs. The same chords. Every damn song.”

> Chapter 4