As the students were led into the jet, it rose high up right after, before becoming a beam of light, quickly fading into the distance.
But that wasn't the only jet that came in.
There was a dark, sleek-black jet in the clouds, unmoving, and quietly, two figures appeared out of thin air at the mouth of it.
"Vice Rohan."
A man, blue-haired and blue-eyed, seemingly in his early thirties, called out to the tall Vice, a tablet in hand, which his fingers continued to tap on even as he bowed.
"Tomran, did you get the statistics?"
Vice Rohan asked, looking beneath the clouds at the city.
"Yes, Vice Rohan. We've done an estimate of the Supernaturals left in the city. The number has gone down from 1,000+ to just about 17."
He said, and a small grin opened up on the Commander's lips.
"I knew they were the ones for the job."
"Tell me, how many of them did we lose?"
He continued further.
With so many Supernaturals killed, it'd be weird if there wasn't damage of some sort.
