"Boss, the launcher has already targeted the approximate area. For the next step to lock it in, which coordinates should we select?"
Underneath the looming, dark, inclined iron tower, connection cables sprawled everywhere. Mr. Electromagnetic and Mr. Laser were tweaking the launcher's terminal, while the energy generated by Annihilation charged the device. Everyone from the Advanced Magic Research Society—professors and apprentices alike—had gathered here.
Apocalypse gazed at the launcher, the giant device piercing the skies, embodying the same overwhelming power as himself.
"Use the Tracking Mirror's magic power to lock onto the coordinates where he last disappeared."
"You want us to lock onto an ally?"
"There won't be any allies near him."
Mr. Electromagnetic pondered Apocalypse's response for a few seconds. His mind jumped back to the scene he had witnessed earlier in the Advanced Magic Research Society, and his head snapped toward President Apocalypse.
