The gallery was silent now, the tension that had once permeated every corner of the space slowly dissipating into nothingness. It was as if the very air had cleared, leaving behind only the stillness of a world that had been irrevocably changed. Maya stood motionless, staring at the paintings on the walls, her creations, Isaac's, and others that she had never truly understood. In the absence of the entity that had once consumed the gallery, they seemed strangely lifeless now, devoid of the energy that had once imbued them with such power.