Morbus is about to have a real bad day

Then, with a deafening bang, a powerful, invisible explosion ripped through the Richmen Club. It was not the fiery, chaotic blast of Michael's planted explosives in the spy hub; this was something different, something far more contained, yet devastatingly potent. It was a force of pure, concussive energy, originating from the golden bubble surrounding the woman. Tables and chairs, once neatly arranged, were instantly transformed into splintered projectiles, hurtling through the air with deadly force. Patrons, caught completely unaware, were thrown from their seats like ragdolls, their bodies slamming against walls, crashing onto the floor, their screams swallowed by the overwhelming roar of the blast.