Strax's aura still pulsed when the last of the bigwigs left the office.
The door slammed shut with a dry crack, echoing through the now empty hall, and for a few seconds no one moved. The silence that remained was no longer one of fear—it was the silence that lingers after a storm, when the world is still trying to remember how to breathe.
Strax exhaled slowly.
The horns retracted like shadows returning to where they should never have left. The pressure in the room lessened, the candles resumed their steady flames, the carpets stopped tearing. The office was once again just… an office.
He ran a hand over his face, tired in a way only someone who wields too much power knows.
"Haaah…" he sighed, sinking back into the mayor's chair, now officially his.
Rogue didn't waste any time.
He sat back on his lap with the naturalness of someone who had always belonged there, wrapping his arm lazily around his neck. The smile on her lips was slow, satisfied, almost predatory.
