Galliard is too caught up in what he's doing to hear Marco's approach, and even if he had, he doesn't know that he'd have responded to it. He's so close, so close to getting the last of the shards out of his mouth, and once they're gone, he'll feel like he can breathe again. When Marco opens the door, Galliard doesn't even turn from the sink, too intent on what he's doing to pay attention to anything else.

He's turned the bathroom into an abattoir. The walls are splashed with blood, with the worst and heaviest of it around the sink. The sink itself is half-full of blood, its drain clogged, jagged white chunks floating in the mess. The mirror has gotten so splashed it's barely visible, except for a small portion that Galliard has clearly had to wipe clean more than once, its reflection distorted by a pinkish glaze over the mirror's surface.

Galliard stands in front of the mirror, his mouth and front dark red, a bib of blood and flesh chunks running down his chest almost to his waist. His mouth is steaming, and he's waving the steam out of the way with one hand, leaning in close to that one spot on the mirror that's still reflecting. His jaw is open as wide as he can get it--much wider and it would break too--and he's reaching deep inside the cavern with something dark and metallic.