The sound of their boots echoed on the tiled floor like soldiers going to war. Their stern faces spelled ominousity, and anything or anyone that thier eyes touched could feel the consciousness of what they hadn't even done in their body.
Sienna's voice was clear. "Everyone on this floor, please come out."
Her voice seemed to be carried by the wind. Impossibly powerful and spread through every corner like a call and jolted their heart. Glances were exchanged, the very definition of confusion. Murmurs spread, a cacophony of purposeless conversation.
"That's him." Mike pointed at an expressionless standing behind the crowd. His slanted eyes were reddened, his arms crossed. Wearing an armless shirt, his bronze muscles were displayed, bulging, and he looked like he'd punched through your skull if you tried nonsense with him.
