The Guild Hall didn't fall silent when Gregor walked in, but the atmosphere shifted nonetheless.
It wasn't overt, no heads turned, no conversations abruptly halted, but the pulse of the room changed in subtle ways that only someone under scrutiny could sense.
Voices dipped just a notch, laughter softened. Even footsteps seemed to sidestep his path. Gregor noticed it all and, as always, pretended not to.
He approached the desk with deliberate steps, maintaining a carefully neutral expression, the practiced facade of a man who had learned to bear attention without letting it overwhelm him.
Sage sat behind the desk as usual, leaning back slightly, one hand propping up his chin while the other flipped lazily through a ledger. To an outsider, the Guildmaster appeared bored; to Gregor, he seemed infuriatingly composed.
Sage's eyes lifted before Gregor spoke, as if he had sensed his approach long before his footsteps reached the desk. Their gazes locked for a moment in silence.
