Undercurrents surged in the depths of the Sea of Magical Power.
A black battleship, one thousand five hundred meters long, glided smoothly through the void.
Twelve sets of Super AT Force Field Generators propped open a faint blue deflection barrier around the exterior of the hull, slicing through and redirecting the oncoming energy tides.
Inside the bridge, it was completely silent.
Allen sank into his spacious, custom-made ergonomic leather command chair. The magnificent scenery outside the bridge unfolded before his eyes, but unfortunately, no matter how beautiful the view was, one grew tired of it after a few days.
He hadn't chosen to teleport directly to the G-771 Plane via the cross-realm Star Gate of the Mystic Code Council.
The reason was simple: it was expensive.
