Capítulo 45: A Cleansing of the Soul
Squish.... Squash... Squish... Squash...
The noise filled the room, repeating as the sounds of hands rubbing together accompanied its rhythm. It's source was anxious, and sometimes, the rhythm would shift, pause, or accelerate at random, adding to the uncertainty of the frantic melody.
"Y-You promised, you know that... It better not be... Dola!"
Dola sat across from the distressed source, her confidence making it feel even more anxious. She sat in the blank, white interrogation room, completely at ease as she lounged in the stiff chair, reasoning with the source of such anxious energy.
"You shouldn't work yourself up so much."
The source's slick hands pointed violently toward Dola, shaking as all her energy was poured into the gesture. Dola remained stationary, however, feeling a sense of familiarity with the source.
"Don't you patronize me-- by god! You know my stance on this!"
She didn't respond, watching the woman as she continued to panic, returning to the hand sanitizer dispenser once more. Henceforth, the rhythm began anew, and Dola's attention turned to the door. She thought to herself as footsteps came closer to the door, followed by a voice that gradually crescendo'd.
'I'm sorry, Tori. You're part of the only team that I had any say with...'
The door was thrown open, and Miya's voice burst through with it. Tori stood by the hand sanitizer, her eyes thoroughly analyzing the three that entered the room. There was Miya, endlessly energetic, Chance, professional and classy, and another unknown woman, her hair greasy and eyes lazy. She wore black eye shadow, and her jet-black hair curled around her pretty face. She wore a lone, black tank top, and her pants shone, chains surrounding her waist yet failing to lift her pants to fit around her slim waist.
She had a jarring energy to her, and Tori's eyes focused predominately on her, sensing an feeling she hated.
"Mercenary..."
Dola hastily interjected, and the three by the door continued further into the room, passing Tori who remain at the hand sanitizer dispenser.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Deputy. The two accompanying Chance are full-bred police volunteers; isn't that right, Miya, Jesse?"
Miya quickly opened her mouth.
"N--"
Immediately as she began to correct Dola, her lips were pressed together by an invisible force, and Miya struggled to continue speaking, but the apparitions would not let her speak for herself. She felt a small push from behind, and a transparent being, in her image, fell from her body. Miya wondered if no one else could see what was happening, but their looks confirmed it as they sat, patiently awaiting for her to continue speaking.
Miya's spirit clone rose, and upon rising, it began to speak. As it spoke, her mouth was moved forcefully, matching the movements of the clone with unreal precision.
"Yes, ma'am! I'm glad I had an opportunity such as this!"
Dola's eyes shifted to the woman named Jesse, and she smiled in response. Instantly playing along with their ploy.
"Yeah, I'm a volunteer alright. Pleased to meet ya."
Dola once again turned her gaze toward Tori who obviously still had doubts. Conflicted, she turned again to the holy cleanser, even more erratic than before. Those in the room watched as she took an unreal amount of sanitizer from the dispenser, in pure disbelief.
Dola broke the silence, subsequently stopping her impromptu shower, and with a flick of a finger, three contrasting uniforms appeared before the three of them. There was one with a light-blue upper-body, another with both a light-blue top and bottom, and one which was completely black in color. They all stood, analyzing the uniforms.
Miya's attention was grasped by the light-blue uniform.
'There's that design again... It's almost invisible, but I can see it, the markings of Headmaster Krewe's mercenaries.'
Miya turned toward Tori who thoroughly inspected all of the uniforms presented. She made no notable reaction to them, her hand lying under her chin.
'I wonder why they're hiding that from her...'
...
Miya, Tori, and Jesse walked toward the door of the cramped room, Tori leading the way with Chance at her side. As Miya neared the threshold of the room, the door slammed before her, causing her to fall backward into Jesse's soft breast. Jesse caught her and slowly hoisted her upward, her eyes turning behind them to where Dola sat quietly.
She returned a serious look, but even the pressure of her intense aura didn't faze Jesse, and she placed Miya softly onto her feet again. Her grip and reaction speed were exceptional, and when Miya looked downward toward her hands, they looked as if conjured by a demon, the tips of her fingers sharp and her nails completely gone. They slowly reverted to normal, and Jesse placed them in her pockets, staring Dola head on with a similar intensity. Miya remained on guard during this exchange of pressure, something she was unfamiliar with to the point of fear, but she found comfort in Jesse's protective stance.
Dola was the first to speak, the intensity in the air dying down greatly. The pressure relieving itself from Jesse also faded, and Miya felt something different in the air, but she couldn't quite explain it.
"I was right to pick you for this mission, Jesse. You're exceptional at manipulating a natural aura, something only a few I know can emulate."
"You wanted to continue speaking with us? Someone who didn't know the power of the Miura's might be scared shitless by that display of yours."
"You might be right-- You are right... I apologize for throwing this upon you, but I couldn't see a better team than the three of you to take on this task. Just listen, because this has been bugging me since it began, yesterday night."
Miya and Jesse listened intently, Dola's serious tone striking them in a strange fashion. Although they wanted to, they felt almost forced to listen, follow every single word to the most minute detail, and Dola's distressed expression solidified this horrible feeling, giving the both of them a sense of helplessness. It was bizarre to see Dola in this state, being the strong woman she is, and her next few words held a weight that neither of them truly understood the magnitude of.
"Your mission is as follows..."
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder