Chapter 854: Origin Spirit Mio Takamiya! We've Stirred Up the Spirits' Nest
Kotori Itsuka's suspicions were far from baseless. In fact, the evidence piled up higher with every single incident.
Whenever a Spirit manifested alongside the destructive shockwave of a spacequake, her recovery teams would scramble to ground zero—only to find absolutely nothing. No Spirit. No collateral damage beyond the initial blast crater. Just an empty street and a breadcrumb trail of painfully obvious clues left behind for them to find. Someone was deliberately baiting them, dangling the truth right in front of their faces just to thoroughly mess with them.
Who had the power and the audacity to pull this off? Kotori chewed aggressively on her Chupa Chups, the black ribbons in her hair twitching as her brow furrowed in frustration.
Ironically, the answer to her headache stood right behind her.
Her trusted chief analyst, Reine Murasame, watched the bridge monitors with half-lidded, sleep-deprived eyes. Reine was far more than a simple analyst. Beneath that exhausted, unassuming exterior lay the hidden consciousness of the Spirit of Origin, Mio Takamiya.
Reine knew exactly where the missing girls had vanished to. They hadn't been captured by the AST's strike teams, nor had they retreated back into the Neighboring World. They had been systematically gathered by a rogue trio: Kurumi Tokisaki, Tohka Yatogami, and Nia Honjo. For now, Reine remained silent, quietly observing the board to see exactly what this strange alliance planned to achieve.
Meanwhile, far from the prying eyes of Kotori's surveillance network.
A dense, localized barrier of spiritual energy completely enveloped a secluded building, masking its interior from all radar and magical detection. Inside, the very targets Kotori was tearing her hair out trying to find were lounging around a spacious living area.
Kurumi Tokisaki had brought them all here. The pitch was simple: stabilize their volatile energy, put an end to the destructive spacequakes, and carve out a sanctuary where they could finally live freely in the human world.
It sounded like a dream. But reality was starting to set in.
The combined territorial field maintained by Kurumi and Nia effectively suppressed their spacequakes, but the safe zone only extended to the walls of the building. They were safe, but they were still caged. And cabin fever was beginning to take hold.
"Kurumi! When exactly will this grand freedom you promised us finally arrive?" Kaguya Yamai demanded, planting her hands firmly on her hips.
Her bright orange hair was tied back, framing a face dominated by sharp, mercury-colored eyes. Slender and practically vibrating with restless energy, she tilted her chin up, projecting the haughty, domineering aura of a dark queen. Usually, she would dress her complaints in layers of theatrical, chuunibyou flair, but the sheer boredom of confinement had stripped away her patience. The grand act she put on to maintain her dignity as a proud Spirit was cracking.
Right beside her stood her mirror image, Yuzuru Yamai, wearing an identical expression of quiet scrutiny.
Yuzuru shared the same golden-orange hair, though hers was woven into three thick braids. Her figure was noticeably softer and more voluptuous than her twin's, a fact that often sparked one-sided rivalries. Unlike Kaguya's fiery temperament, Yuzuru's half-lidded eyes exuded a listless, docile calm. Even the metallic restraints of her Astral Dress mirrored her sister in reverse, binding her left wrist and ankle instead of the right.
"Inquiry. How much longer must we remain confined in this space?" Yuzuru asked, her voice soft and monotone. As always, she prefaced her sentence with a two-word descriptor, her unique verbal signature.
They were the Twin Spirits. Once a single, unified entity, a bizarre manifestation anomaly had split them into two distinct individuals. They shared the same striking mercury eyes and the exact same facial features, yet their hairstyles, body types, and wildly contrasting personalities made them entirely unique. Despite their constant bickering over who was the 'true' Yamai, their minds operated on the exact same wavelength. When it came to important matters, they moved in perfect sync.
Just like right now, cornering Kurumi with a synchronized, dual-pronged interrogation.
The rising tension drew the attention of the rest of the room. Aside from Nia and Tohka, three other highly unique Spirits occupied the lounge.
Huddled on a plush armchair was Yoshino Himekawa. Wrapped in an oversized, green rabbit-eared raincoat, the petite blue-haired girl looked as fragile as spun glass. With her dream-like, doll-like features and a physical age matching Kotori's, she radiated an aura of absolute innocence. Right now, however, she looked deeply distressed. Her small shoulders hunched inward as she clutched a bizarre, eyepatch-wearing rabbit puppet to her chest, terrified that a fight was about to break out.
"Now, now, ladies! Let's all take a deep breath and use our inside voices, yeah? Otherwise, my poor little Yoshino is gonna cry!"
The voice didn't come from the girl, but from the puppet. This was Yoshinon.
It wasn't a cheap ventriloquist trick; Yoshinon was a fully independent personality born from Yoshino's spiritual power anchoring itself to the puppet. Yoshinon acted as a boisterous, extroverted shield, handling all the stressful social interactions so Yoshino could remain safely tucked away in her own mental shell. Without the puppet's emotional support, the timid girl would instantly spiral into a blind panic, lashing out with devastating ice attacks at the slightest provocation—even though her kind, gentle heart never actually wanted to hurt a single soul.
"Oh my, oh my. Don't fret, little Yoshino. The Yamai sisters are simply advocating for our collective right to know."
A sultry, melodic voice drifted from the neighboring sofa. Miku Izayoi stretched her long legs, her striking purple-silver hair cascading over her shoulders. Dressed in little more than a loose, dangerously sheer slip that did nothing to hide her generous curves, she offered a lazy, captivating smile.
Miku was an anomaly among the group. Much like Kurumi, she had maintained her manifestation for over half a year, flawlessly integrating into human society as a popular idol and high school student. And just like Kotori, she hadn't been born a Spirit; she was a human who had been artificially imbued with a Spirit Crystal.
She also harbored a pathological, venomous hatred for men. A single word from a male was enough to plunge her mood into absolute zero. Conversely, she possessed an overwhelming, borderline predatory obsession with cute girls. Her entire sense of self-worth was tied to her mind-controlling vocal abilities, leaving her deeply insecure beneath her glamorous idol persona.
Kurumi and Nia had been forced to employ a dizzying mix of coercion, bribery, and outright trickery just to drag the man-hating idol into this safe house—and even more effort to keep her aggressive, girl-crazy tendencies in check.
But right now? Miku's purple-silver eyes practically sparkled with anticipation. She was fully rooting for a brawl. If Kurumi and the twins started throwing down, the barrier might drop, giving her the perfect window to escape. Being trapped in a room full of gorgeous, top-tier beauties without being allowed to grope, cuddle, or dress them up was a special kind of torture she refused to endure much longer.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The rhythmic sound of aggressive snacking echoed from the corner. Slouched deep into the cushions of a loveseat, a stunning woman in her early twenties methodically shoved potato chips into her mouth. She possessed an artificially perfect, supermodel-tier figure, framed by cascading waves of vibrant green hair and piercing emerald eyes.
But this flawless, mature beauty was nothing more than a magical fabrication—a disguise maintained by her shapeshifting Astral Dress. Beneath the glamorous illusion, Natsumi Kyouno was actually a scrawny, unkempt little girl with messy hair, barely taller than Yoshino.
Crippled by a severe inferiority complex and borderline delusional paranoia, Natsumi refused to let anyone see her true, pathetic self. She viewed the entire world through a lens of extreme negativity and suspicion—with the sole exception of the angelic Yoshino, whom she secretly adored. Her emotional resilience was practically nonexistent.
Yet, as long as she wore her 'perfect adult' skin, she could project an aura of detached, untouchable cool.
Just like now. She didn't care if the Yamai sisters tore the room apart or if Miku made a run for it. Natsumi just licked the salt off her fingers, grabbed another chip, and watched the drama unfold like it was a prime-time soap opera.
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