The clearing was silent.
The violent tear in reality from Thorne's escape had sealed itself, leaving behind only the clean, earthy smell of the newly cleansed forest. A fine, golden ash, glowing like dust from a fallen star, covered everything, turning the clearing into a place of holy beauty.
Draven stood with his greatsword resting on his shoulder, his mouth still slightly open as he stared at the spot where the mad doctor had vanished. "So… he's gone."
"For now," Jonah corrected, his voice calm. He could still feel the faint, distant ping of Specter's tracer.
"Hmph. An unsatisfying conclusion," Master Fen grumbled, his curiosity already overriding his sense of danger. He was already pulling out a fresh set of sample jars and a foldable trowel. "He escaped before I could properly brag and prove my higher intelligence. What a disaster for the world of learning!."
