Anthony dropped the painting on the ground harshly, right at the same spot that the previous one had been before it disintegrated.

“Here is the painting.” He said, before strolling back to his former position on the podium, his eyes blazing with anger. 

As time went on, he felt as if his anger to happiness ratio kept increasing, with the happiness going lower and lower with every ticking second. This was the most unexpected day of his life.

Freya looked at the painting gingerly, studying its edges and curves. The painting was beautiful. Too bad it had been an object of spying. She could bet her ass that there was...