Agents and medics of T.I.T.A.N. pulled all five out on individual stretchers, raising them up to the medical airship hovering above Mechagodzilla. All were safely hauled up, safely secured, and safely flown back to Canterlot for immediate diagnosis. They weren’t the only ones hauled away.
“They’re awaiting your orders, Director,” a T.I.T.A.N. agent addressed, holding out his radio via magic. Celestia took it carefully, her magic almost seeming to shake to her own quivers. But she held strong for them, speaking into the radio and giving the order.
They watched in silence. Watched as the steel straps fell down from dozens of airships. Large and small, as many as they could fit in flying formation, the impressive fleet of T.I.T.A.N. airships hovered together over the Mecha’s remains. They descended with their straps dangling out of the ships’ bellies, meeting the agents already on the ground. The straps were locked in, tightened with an extra magical, unbreakable bond, and the agents dispersed.