There was a palpable tension in the air, a dense cloud of unseen potential that everyone in the meeting room could sense. It felt sort of like being in the middle of a thunderstorm that had yet to release its first bolt of lightning.
No one dared speak aloud as they did their best to remain as neutral and inconspicuous as they could possibly manage. No one, not even Axtorius or Haydn, dared to voice out their concern as they waited for him to speak.
What the hell happened? Or rather, who fucked up? Why was he in such an awful mood?
But the biggest question that was in everyone's mind, though, was... who the hell was that damn thunderbolt going to hit?
And then the person they feared most at the moment spoke and said, "...I've called this meeting today for a personal reason, so you need not fear retribution. Please be at ease. None of you have done anything to warrant reprimand."