The meeting came to a complete close. Charles was ultimately taken away by the fat agent and temporarily placed in his custody.
Moira suppressed her fury and strode out of the conference room with her colleague.
Once she had left the solemn office corridor, she could no longer contain her resentment and began venting in a low voice.
The CIA's senior officials were muddleheaded and prejudiced, putting the cart before the horse. They turned a blind eye to the impending crisis and ignored Sebastian Shaw's crimes, yet directed their hostility toward a kind Mutant like Charles, who meant well and had never done anything evil. They treated him with suspicion, guarded against him at every turn, and singled him out for harsh scrutiny. It was utterly absurd.
Just as Moira was seething with frustration, the colleague walking beside her abruptly stopped, his entire body frozen in place. He remained completely motionless, his expression and movements arrested like a stationary statue.
The sudden change left Moira bewildered. She was about to ask what had happened when a gentle, familiar voice quietly sounded directly in the depths of her mind.
"Don't worry. He's perfectly fine. I've only immobilized him temporarily. I just wanted to speak with you alone. This is nice, isn't it? Like you, I'm very interested in Sebastian Shaw. If you still need my help, meet me on the third underground level of the parking garage."
The instant the voice faded, her colleague came back to his senses. He looked at Moira blankly and asked in confusion:
"What were you muttering about just now? I couldn't make any of it out."
Moira quickly concealed the astonishment in her eyes, suppressed her thoughts, and shook her head lightly, feigning composure:
"Nothing. Just making a few passing remarks. I have some personal