Not getting a reaction from Seven, she didn't push on, concluding he didn't want to talk about it.
One thing was certain, regardless—Seven knew what she was thinking. More or less, the same question was running through his mind.
True… but not in the way anyone would think.
Seven, having already considered the possibility that the school was extremely abnormal, was more scared at the thought of all of this being part of a huge destiny scheme.
He'd hate to be left in the dark while his life was being controlled and maneuvered to suit a hidden agenda.
Sure, he didn't have all the answers now. Heck, he didn't have any.
But…
Being nosey would only lead to more mysteries. And currently, with problems that required immediate action, it was only right for him to let it go.
Exhaling, he stepped out of the woods—a lonely but calm road waiting ahead.
He heard the others' footsteps behind him, but without waiting, he continued on.
---
"So let me get this straight. The Dancing Phantom was buried in this school? And more precisely... in the garden, huh?" Zed asked, hand on her chin, expression solemn.
Everyone shivered as a wave of pity washed over them. The truth was out—Dancing Phantom hadn't just died. He hadn't even been buried properly.
No wonder he clung to vengeance for so long. Maybe too tightly.
He was lost! It was truly unfair to him. He was just like them, a boy who pursued his dreams with passion.
"Yeah…" Seven replied with a nod, indifferent. He doubted Zed could even hear him through those headphones.
It wasn't about why she always had them on. What baffled him was that she was the only clairsentient in the group who bothered to.
Whispers of the dead and demons were persistent, but not unbearable. Was she hearing them every time?
Either way, he was definitely getting a pair for himself. Could work wonders against Zephyr's rants.
"…you and the rest will dig up the corpse while everyone's distracted by the party," Zed continued, snapping him from his thoughts.
'Yikes…' He'd missed the whole plan while zoning out.
"Make sure to burn the body immediately. Use the goofer's dust—it's highly flammable!"
She carried on, oblivious to Seven's blank stare. It was hard to tell anyway; he barely showed expression.
Watch him sit still for a few minutes, and you'd swear he was a life-sized, ancient action figure.
Lifeless.
Lexis chimed in. "There's a huge 'if' we might be ignoring…" she said, lips twisted thoughtfully.
"…"
Silence.
It was obvious—everyone had been aware of that big IF, they didn't just want to address it.
"There's no guarantee the Dancing Phantom would leave his corpse unguarded while hunting Marcus. Just speculation... but I honestly don't think half of us could take him if this plan fails."
Everyone shrugged.
"You think it's a bad idea to split?" Zed asked.
"A good idea to just wait it out?" she added, watching Lexis reluctantly nod to the first question.
She stared at the ground. The logic behind the original plan was beginning to make more sense.
Coming to her rescue, trying to tailor it down...
"This is the closest chance we've ever had to destroy him," Priscilla said. "It's not too risky. If you ask me, he'll go after the third bully on his death anniversary. I know I would."
Another guy—someone Seven hadn't paid much attention to—nodded.
"Personally, I think we have all the cards to make this move. That said… cutting off the school's power would help."
Before anyone could question him, Zed jumped in.
"He draws power from electricity, far as we know. No power, he's as harmless as the hallway crier."
She looked around to make sure everyone was listening.
"To avoid complications, we'll be using the walkie-talkies. Keep them on at all times. That's our only line of communication. Understood?"
She turned to Lexis, who gave a curt nod.
"Right. It'll only mess with the fuse box once everyone's in the venue, and he's about to strike."
"Good. Once he's unable to recharge, we engage and stall him while the rest dig up and cremate the corpse," Zed confirmed.
Holding up a key, she casually threw it up, caught it, and said smugly:
"Now for the most effective part of the mission, The relics. The vault is open for you all but generally, one binding relic is granted to each team. The first team can only take category 6 relics but everyone gets a dagger."
'They have a vault full of holy weapons? Since when has that been going on?!'
Seven stared blankly, struggling with a completely unrelated fact.
'If they blow the fuse… won't they be forced to fight him in the dark? No one's seen his true form. Do they assume that just because he feeds off electricity, he's going to glow like a damn glow stick?'
His eyes widened slightly. Realizing a similar dumb mistake he'd made.
'If Cordis managed to make everyone in the prison sleepy… wouldn't Simon be asleep too…?'
Well, damn.
'Hmm, we would've just given him one of those St. Anthony's shield amulets. Then one of us would've done the questioning instead. Huff!'
"Any problem?" a soft male voice asked, tapping his shoulder.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Seven looked around. The meeting had ended.
'Great. I have the attention span of a goldfish.'
He lowered his head in guilt. Of all missions to lose focus during...
Trying to compile what little he had heard, he didn't notice the figure towering above him.
Getting an overview, he made to stand up only to fall back into the chair, surprised at the jumpscare of a person before him.
He had questions...
"Hm?" he mumbled, expecting more beyond the creepy grin aimed at him.
The brawny guy with a bow cut was huge, but the smile he wore made that easy to forget.
Still, it looked...off. Discomforting in all the wrong ways.
Seven avoided eye contact, figuring the guy wouldn't stop staring.
"You don't focus much, do you?" the guy said. His voice was deep—fitting for his build—but it clashed with his cheerful demeanor.
He wasn't someone you'd miss in a crowd. But somehow, Seven hadn't noticed him before.
Not a big deal, though. People always slipped past his radar.
Crouching, the guy placed both hands on his thighs so he could meet Seven face-to-face. With a soft smile, he smirked and said softly—well, tried to:
"Your—your eyes are fascinating…" he said, sounding genuinely impressed.
'Wait, what?'
"…like staring into a clear sky…" he breathed.
'That turned rainbow real quick...'
They were definitely sharing air now.
Seven's face twitched as his stoic mask cracked. He pushed the guy back with a finger.
"Too close."
Not offended, the brute held out a hand for a shake and introduced himself.
"I'm Ama. Claircognizance. I can brief you on the—"
Everything else faded.
'Wha—Ama? A guy?'
Who was he to judge weird names? He was named after a number.
Trying to shake off the weird vibe, he noted the guy's golden-brown skin, rich curls, sharp jawline, and almond-shaped light brown eyes.
'Who's the creepy one now?'
He wondered what races Ama was mixed with.
"You're doing it again. You don't talk much, but your mind's always busy, yeah?" Ama chuckled.
"I know you planned to rock a black suit tonight. But we wouldn't want it stained with dirt when we dig, now would we?"
His tone changed—serious now.
"I'll grab a shovel for us. But in the meantime... Phil?"
He gestured to a strawberry-blonde beauty holding a black package.
'Phil is a girl? Okayyyyy…'
"Zed should be the one giving this to you. It was supposed to be gifted after the mission, but hey—this isn't some fictional story...
Hehehe."
"I needed to take credit for designing this myself. Don't ask how I got your measurements." He eyed Seven, who shrank a little under the stare.
"The mission's outcome won't affect your membership. So here it is. Your own suit. Partner."
He said the last part flirtatiously with a suppressed laugh.
Seven's flustered reaction deserved a camera shoot.
"I think it'd look perfect on you. Pick you up by 7, alright?"
Winking, he handed over the suit. His hand lingered just a second too long.
Seven didn't flinch this time. His face returned to its usual blank state as he retreated, laughing dryly.
"Messing with me? $#@&..."
"Whoa, easy," Phil said. "He's just like that."
"Clairaudience?" Seven asked, wondering if she could read minds.
"No. Claircognizance. More like 'I know what you're thinking' than 'I hear your thoughts.'" She smiled.
She checked her watch and turned to leave.
"Welcome to Custodes Spei..."
"Custo what?" he echoed.
Turning the package, he saw it inscribed in thick, jet-black leather:
"Custodes Spei: Abstersores Tenebrarum"
"On my soul… I didn't know this group had a name."
Not a bad way to start a prom date, he thought, recalling a glitter gone wrong situation… and a colorful girl.
'Would choose her over Ama. Anytime. Any day.'