Allen's figure reappeared in the Cybertron Main Control Room.
He stood still as a mountain, his black robes hanging loosely. It was as if the bloody, thirty-hour battle that had nearly drained every last drop of his Spiritual Power, and the tense confrontation with King William, had never happened.
Only Jarvis knew what a torment it was for Allen to maintain the Allen Network at that moment.
The Spiritual Power assault from the Dawn Star Level being, though weakened through multiple layers, was still like a poisoned steel needle lodged deep in his Sea of Spirit.
Every time he processed information through the network, an agonizing pain, like his very soul was being torn apart, accompanied it.
Without several months of rest, a recovery would be difficult.
"Jarvis." Allen's voice betrayed no fatigue, but his closed eyes revealed his current state.
"Pull up the combat data for all King Level units from the Beast Tide war. Cross-reference it and build behavioral models."
