The tension in the air was palpable. On a gloomy Monday afternoon, Frost Industries' office building stood in a state of quiet turmoil.
In the open-plan workspace, fingers tapped on keyboards with trepidation, and hushed conversations crackled like static. "Did you hear about the Demon?" whispered one employee to another, their eyes darting around as though the office held the secrets of the universe. "He's been here since who knows when. No one knows why, but he's not pleased about something."
Another employee, furtively sipping from a Styrofoam cup, ventured, "I heard he's even moved up the deadline for the quarterly reports in all departments. And there have been surprise inspections. He's expecting everything to be flawless, with no room for mistakes."
