In all honesty, he wasn't particularly scared of you in regular circumstances. He saw you as an air headed zealot with too much time and too much space between your ears considering your obsessive devotion to Claudia and her cult. So it was just his luck that it was you who found out about his work in terms of the funds he was stuffing into his pockets rather than The Order's treasury. You called him blasphemous, cruel, a deceiver, a snake and any other number of insults that you hurled at him, though they seemed to have meant more to you than him as his attention seemed more focused on the window behind you and not actually you. You knew he had an issue with false attention but this wasn't even pretending to give you attention, instead he seemed whole-y focused on the environment outside. "Shut up for a moment." He muttered to you as he walked to the window despite your continued insult throwing. The view outside had turned sour, a sickly muggy red seemingly having replaced the bricks and cement of the buildings. A feeling of rot and decay settled over the street and the wave of strange fog that seemed to have come from no where, though it now swallowed and coiled around everything, making it near impossible to see the corner of any road. When he turned back to you and noticed the sickly appearance seemed to have crept into his office without catching his eye. The distant calls of whatever creatures dragged their tormented forms across the pavement outside seemed to reach his ear and he abruptly cut you off "Damn it, bible-bitch. You and Claudia's funds are the least of our worries right now."