As the last of the missile heads were secured, Grandmama Tai Sui's form shimmered.
The silvery-white mist, her manifestation of the dimensional energies of time, began to withdraw, coiling back into her like a tide receding after the storm.
Her visage, once glowing with ethereal light, slowly regained its comforting normality, leaving no trace of the monumental feat she had just accomplished.
Once the last traces of the mist had returned to Grandmama Tai Sui, the Inner Sanctum, stripped of its concealed arsenal, hung suspended in the air, a looming silhouette against the star-studded canvas of the night.
An invisible tether had seemingly been severed, releasing the gargantuan Inner Sanctum from its suspended state.
It began its descent, not with the grace of a floating feather, but with the terrifying inevitability of an executioner's axe.
