The air crackled from the electrifying presence of the two powerful men. If Aragon's eyes were a bit of burning darkness, then Zoan's resembled that of rising and choking smokey depths. One gave rise to the other, and a battle between them would never end unless the fire is quenched...by something having the qualities of water.
Aragon was now dressed in his royal attire because he had something important to attend to at the moment. Some unexpected events had turned down, but everything was now back in his control again. Aletta kept looking back and forth between both men, gaping like a complete idiot. There was no one around them, as if everyone was intentionally avoiding walking by them.
Like, who in their Normal senses would?
