Ashuriel's sharp gaze shifted abruptly toward the grand entrance of the hall as the heavy double doors creaked open. The sound reverberated through the chamber, silencing the faint echoes of tension that lingered in the air. Ebilade and Gregory stepped inside, their contrasting auras clashing against the oppressive atmosphere of the estate.
Ebilade's stride was measured, his movements calm yet purposeful. His sharp suit seemed to defy the dim lighting, the fabric catching just enough of the chandelier's glow to reflect his composed demeanor. Gregory, by contrast, exuded a fiery intensity, his dark overcoat swaying with each deliberate step, his crimson eyes ablaze with a mixture of challenge and amusement.
Owen spun around, his robes swirling dramatically, his expression flickering between anger and disbelief. "You dare!" he hissed, his voice cutting through the heavy air like a blade. "You walk into the lion's den as though this is some trivial encounter?"