Henry's very presence seemed to exert an invisible pressure that weighed heavily on the room, making the air thick and difficult to breathe. This pressure increased even more as his cold grey eyes heavily landed on each individual present in the room, resting longer on Marcus and Zuna, the most distinct figures.
A tense atmosphere hovered in the hall as the two messengers tried hard to maintain their composure, but the sweat on their foreheads betrayed their unease. For a brief moment, their eyes met with Henry's, leading to an indescribable sense of dread to wash over them. They felt their whole lives fleeting by their eyes, like a prey looking a hunter's eyes.
It made them instinctively take a step back as their hearts raced, threatening to jump out of their mouths as their hands got covered in sweat. It was as if Henry's grey eyes could strip their souls naked, digging out their fears and weakness to the surface.
