Holy. Shit.
Xavier's jaw hung open as the observation deck returned to normal lighting. The massive screens still displayed the aftermath—a cathedral littered with crystal fragments, its center now empty where the gate core had been. Thalia Sinclair stood among the destruction, wiping blood from her nose.
"That was fucking amazing," he whispered, barely aware he'd spoken aloud.
Around him, Class 1-D remained frozen in collective awe. No one moved. No one spoke. Even Kyrie, who always had something to say, stared at the screen with wide eyes and parted lips.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Phantom said, his white mask reflecting the screens' glow, "that is the power of the Big Three."
