Silas walked through the shattered remnants of the mutant realm, the severed head of the Realm's god held firmly in his right hand and a pouch full of valuable mutant parts in his left. The path ahead was littered with debris and pools of dark, congealed blood, reminders of the brutal battles he'd left behind. His footsteps echoed in the silence as he moved closer to the exit, his senses still on high alert despite his victory.
After several minutes of walking, Silas spotted a group of familiar figures up ahead, silhouetted against the dim light filtering through the realm's strange sky. It was Ava and her team of female academy staff, all looking anxious as they waited. The instant they saw Silas, they rushed toward him, expressions ranging from disbelief to awe.
"Silas!" Ava called out, her voice trembling as she took in his blood-spattered form. "Is it done?" She asked, her chest heaving from both exhaustion and anticipation, sweat glistening on her brow.
