Aboard the cloaked ship in high orbit, Cleo monitored the data stream. A simple notification flashed across her main display: [OPERATION STATUS - COMPLETE.] A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. She had never doubted the outcome. With a thought, she dismissed the alert.
Minutes later, the air in the command deck hummed, and Rex materialized behind her real body. The scent of ozone and cold metal clung to him.
He didn't need to ask. She didn't need to look.
"Is it done?" His voice was dry, barren of emotion, the sound of a man checking off a tedious item on a list.
Cleo tilted her head slightly, her eyes still fixed on the star-chart ahead. "The lesson has been thoroughly taught," she replied, her voice a calm, cool contrast to the horror they had just authored. "The universe is now a little cleaner."
Silence settled between them, a comfortable understanding. The matter was closed. The universe had been taught a lesson in consequences.
