A crunch fractures through the truck. The violent man, with his fingers twitching over Mr. Henderson, turns blue in the face. A hand with the strength of indestructible titanium restrains his attack.
"Noe?" Mr. Henderson gasps. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he stares at Noe's towering form, miles taller than everyone else in the room. His black robes cascade to the ground, hugging his form, outlining the sheer power and strength stored in his muscles.
"Goodmorning, Mr. Henderson," Noe speaks. The deep voice of one transcendent travels across everyone's hearts and shakes the countenance of their harassment.
Peering deeply into Mr. Henderson's shivering gaze, Noe's iron grip tightens around the violent man's wrist.
