Authority, Spoken Softly
Wrong, every single one of you, Leon said, his lips edging into a quiet smirk that crept across like dusk falling. He didn't speak loud, just steady - no need to shout when certainty sits so close. To him it wasn't about fear, never was. What mattered showed in how he held himself, calm but sharp. The idea that he'd come here to take lives missed the point completely. Killing wasn't the goal, even if some assumed it was
Again, he moved ahead.
Footsteps whisper over rock. A quiet rhythm follows each step.
Measured.
Certain.
One step followed another, slow on purpose, like each was measuring how hard their hearts beat. Not a shout, just that steady tap, landing deep inside them instead of the floor. Eyes stayed locked there, pulled by rhythm more than sight. Rushing? Never crossed his mind. Power moved with him, not flashy, just certain, crowding the space until breathing felt heavier. Every pace inched the silence tighter.
