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The pressure was immense. Jack felt as though he were an ant standing before a mighty dragon, its fiery breath ready to consume him. His legs trembled under the invisible weight, every fiber of his being straining to remain upright. Behind him, the classroom faded into a blur—faces, voices, and whispers became distant echoes. All that existed was Hay, his piercing black eyes locking onto Jack's with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.
Jack couldn't look away, no matter how much he wanted to. It wasn't just Hay's gaze; it was the aura radiating from him—overwhelming, all-encompassing, and utterly crushing. It wasn't the type of force one could simply endure. It was ancient, tempered by years of battle and relentless practice. Jack could feel it in his bones, in the trembling of his muscles, and in the very air he breathed.
