Miguel was usually not in the best of moods, but that was a given. The way he stood like stone watching over every aspect of the Society — it was typical of him, and usually, he adopted a stoic, emotionless demeanor.

However, today, something was bothering him. And not just irking him. No, it was pissing him off.

When you approached, he whipped around, blazing in copious fury.

“Callaté!” Miguel snapped. His teeth gnashed and he towered over you, making you back away. “Get out of my lair.”