The island was steeped in night. Moonlight streaming through rows of floor-to-ceiling windows coated every piece of furniture and the marble floor in silver. Laura Croft had collapsed on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket and sleeping heavily, while the extinguished fire had left behind only ashes. Bayonetta and Jeanne were each draped in blankets, reclining diagonally against the middle of the sofa. A cold sea breeze swept through the rocks, moonlight, and glass, brushing across their naked bodies. A holographic projector sat in the center of the long white marble table, its controlled photons shifting through flickering blocks of color across the hall. The balance between those rhythmically changing lights and colors was broken only when the owner of the house entered, gripping three glasses of hard liquor filled with ice in one hand.
"Houston is completely locked down now. I can imagine Rosa's expression at this very moment. Didn't they buy a villa in Houston so they could enjoy beaches and cocktails every day?" Jeanne accepted a glass, her face full of gloating delight. Balder had mentally manipulated her for five hundred years. It was impossible for her not to hold a grudge. Even if this Balder was the Balder from five hundred years ago, Witches did not need reason when they were angry. The Emperor had not understood that principle before, which was why the Witches often met him in the arena reserved for the Sacred Guard in the City of Immortals. "Are you sure this will make NASA miss its signal reception window?"
"It's insurance. The satellite meant to receive the information has already been destroyed. If we were in North America, we might be able to see the fire from it burning up as it entered the atmosphere. What a pity. I wanted to see