In less than a minute, a profound, almost supernatural silence descended upon the Dimensional Zone. The only smell was the faint, metallic scent of ozone and the sharp stench of burnt, dissolving flesh—the residue of over a hundred high-level monsters vaporized in an instant. Not a single enemy—monster or rival team—survived the attack, which had appeared almost effortless.
'What level is Christopher truly on?!' Tony thought, a tremor of pure awe replacing his usual arrogance. The terrifying reality was that his leader was operating on a plane he couldn't even fathom.
'Such overwhelming power… Thank goodness I'm only here to hold his bags,' Mitchell thought, his confidence now entirely reliant on his leader's terrifying might. His ambition hadn't vanished, but it was now utterly subservient to Christopher's presence.
