He dismissed the windows with a lazy flick of his eyes. He didn't care about the numbers.
He cared about the results.
The sky was empty. The threat was neutralized. The massive, bleeding tear in the Juncture where the armada had emerged from was slowly, quietly beginning to stitch itself back together.
"Cleanup is going to be a nightmare," Sebastian grumbled, turning his back on the void. "Gwen is going to owe me a new coat.
And a lot of coffee."
He took a step toward the ramp leading back down into the depths of the leviathan skull, fully intending to head back to Corbin's lab, grab his team, and finally go home.
But the Ethereal Plane never made things that easy.
A sharp, piercing hum suddenly cut through the quiet drifting of the ash. It wasn't the sound of heavy, rusting metal. It was the high-pitched, frantic whine of an overloaded cybernetic engine pushing itself to the absolute breaking point.
