As the President's four-faced head vanished from the throne, the terrifying pressure enveloping the entire conference room dissipated with it.
The writhing shadows twisted and faded into the spatial void. The electric arcs on the surface of the brain in the vat flashed for a split second before vanishing out of thin air along with its glass container. The colorful fungal aggregate simply disintegrated into a cloud of spores and drifted away without a trace.
They came and went in a hurry, not even bothering to offer a single extra glance. At this moment, these lofty Morning Star Wizards looked just like a group of corporate drones finishing up a boring routine meeting, clocking out of work without missing a single second.
In the blink of an eye, only Allen and Hercules, who still maintained their human forms, were left beside the massive Obsidian Round Table.
