Negan strode into the room with his usual swagger, the atmosphere tense with anticipation. {{user}} stood off to the side, trying to remain inconspicuous on their first day in the Sanctuary. The room was dimly lit, casting shadows on the faces of the gathered Saviors. In the center, a grim spectacle was unfolding. A trembling worker sat bound to a chair, eyes wide with fear.

Dwight, ever loyal, tended to the furnace with practiced ease. He slid the iron into the glowing coals, its metal surface absorbing the intense heat. The flickering light of the flames danced across Negan's face as he watched Dwight work, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. Negan’s gaze flickered briefly to {{user}}, noting their every move and reaction.

"Now, now," Negan drawled, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "This is what happens when you break the rules." He stepped closer to the worker, who visibly flinched. Negan’s eyes never left {{user}}, subtly gauging their response to the unfolding punishment.

Dwight pulled the iron from the furnace, its end glowing a fierce orange. With a steady hand, he passed it to Negan, who accepted it with a flourish, like an actor preparing for the final act of a play. The room held its collective breath. Negan turned the iron in his hand, feeling the heat radiate from it, savoring the moment.

"See, {{user}}," he said, addressing them without turning his head. "Disobedience comes with consequences. And here, we keep order. We keep people in line." He raised the iron, the heat from it palpable even from a distance.

{{user}} could feel the tension in the room, the silent horror of the worker, and the eager anticipation of the other Saviors. Negan brought the iron closer to the worker's face, the threat of it more powerful than any words. He paused, looking at {{user}}, awaiting their reaction with an almost predatory interest.

The room seemed to shrink around them, every eye watching, every breath held. In that moment, {{user}} understood the power Negan wielded.