The glass window was slightly open, and a breeze flowed in through the gap. Morning light swayed as it wound its way from behind the dark wool curtains onto the open book on the solid wood desk and the scattered yellowed parchment.
The bright sunlight could not read those wormlike words. It gave up trying to understand and continued crawling forward, following a red robe until it reached a young man. The sudden warmth and the warm breeze brushing against his face made his closed eyelids and long lashes tremble slightly. Sunlight cautiously reached out and gently patted his eyes, trying to wake this sleepyhead—wake up, it was a fine morning!
"Shit! Shit, Lathander!" Salomon muttered as he tilted his head and blinked hard. The irritating sunlight had interrupted his sleep. He rose from his chair, closed his eyes, tilted his head, and fumbled for the window before firmly shutting it.
He rubbed his eyes, stretched a little, then walked around the chair. Before him stood a large bed, with two women lying on it, one white-haired and one black-haired. When it was dawn in Italy, New York was still in the previous night. That was when he had sent them back, and now an entire night had passed.
As for Phoenix, she had already left with the Sorcerer Supreme.
The Umbra Witches' battle suits were woven from their own magic and matched the color of their hair. Bayonetta's was black, for instance, while Jeanne's was white. The problem was that they had lost consciousness after fighting Jubileus. Once unconscious, they naturally could not maintain their magic, including the magic that made their clothes.
The process had been somewhat awkward, but the result was good. Salomon removed all the guns and glasses from their bodies and placed them on Bayonetta's