"No," he muttered, his voice firm with determination. "You’re not going through this for twenty-four days."
Ivy’s eyes widened in horror.
"Twenty-four days?" she repeated weakly, shaking her head. "I won’t survive that long... I can already feel myself getting weaker..."
Without wasting another second, Silas turned toward the temporal storage, his voice commanding. "Temporary storage, is there a way to stop this?"
A cold, emotionless response echoed almost imdiately.
[One billion KB points required.]
Ivy gritted her teeth, her fingers curling tightly as a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. But it lasted only a mont. "Fine," she said firmly. "Take it."
The transaction completed instantly.
[It is simple,] the storage responded calmly. [Equip red gloves. The effect will cease.]
Ivy’s brows furrowed deeply, suspicion flashing across her face. "Why red gloves?" she questioned sharply.
"Why specifically red? Why not anything else?"
The storage replied in a steady, almost patient tone.
[The red spectrum possesses wavelengths that interfere with the aura of superior beings. It suppresses their energy output. This is not a weakness, but a restriction chanism.]
A brief silence followed.
Ivy and Silas exchanged a glance, both sensing the importance of this information.
"So it can be used against them?" Silas asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
[It can limit their power,] the storage clarified. [However, if the material is damaged or removed, the suppression will fail.]
Neither of them spoke after that.
Without delay, Ivy located a pair of red gloves among the falling supplies. Her fingers trembled slightly as she slipped them on, the fabric cool against her skin.
The mont she did, the rain stopped.
Ivy’s body gave out instantly, her knees buckling as she collapsed onto the ground, her breath shallow and uneven.
Silas’s heart clenched painfully at the sight. "’She pushed herself too far...’" he thought, his chest tightening.
Without hesitation, he turned away and moved toward the small cooking area. "You need sothing warm," he muttered softly, more to himself than to her.
He prepared a simple dumpling soup, soft dough parcels filled with minced at and herbs, carefully dropped into a bubbling pot of clear broth infused with ginger and garlic.
As the dumplings cooked, a rich aroma spread through the space, warm and comforting.
anwhile, far away, Ferrero and Jeff were growing increasingly restless.
Humans had begun to move in desperation, traveling on foot across dangerous terrain, all in search of Roma... or more precisely, Ferrero, who now resided within Roma’s body.
Ferrero clenched a scroll tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning pale as frustration consud him.
"This is all because of that Ivy," he snapped, his voice filled with agitation.
Jeff rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed.
"No," he shot back bluntly. "This is because of our mistakes. You knew what you were dealing with, and you still went ahead."
Ferrero’s expression darkened, but before he could respond further, Jeff continued, his tone sharp.
"That girl... Ivy... she already hid things from us once. You think we can outplay her now?"
Finally, Jeff inhaled deeply, forcing himself to calm down. "There is still one way," he said slowly.
"We can take her down... and that is using her family."
Ferrero’s eyes widened slightly before he shook his head firmly, a trace of fear surfacing in his expression.
"’After everything I endured... all those disasters...’" he thought, his body unconsciously tensing. "That’s a terrible idea," he said aloud. "I’m not risking that again."
Jeff suggested after thinking for a while.
"As long as it is not us we will be fine. Then we end the ritual here," he suggested. "We only need three more. That will be enough."
Ferrero hesitated, then nodded slowly.
"Fine," he agreed. "Let’s just finish this."
Together, he and Jeff closed their eyes, beginning to chant.
For half a month, they had been working on opening a portal, pouring ti and energy into the ritual. Now, it was finally complete.
They only had enough strength left to summon three.
The mont their voices reached a peak, the space before them twisted violently.
A dark portal tore open, its edges flickering with unstable energy.
And then... Figures erged.
One... then another... and finally a third.
Though they resembled humans in shape, there was sothing undeniably unnatural about them.
Their hair shimred in shades of silver, while their bodies appeared unnaturally light, almost fragile, as if they could drift away with the slightest breeze.
Yet the aura they carried told a completely different story.
As the portal sealed shut behind them, Ferrero and Jeff both exhaled deeply.
A slow smile spread across their faces as they looked at the three figures before them.
"Good," Ferrero spoke first, his tone carrying a hint of satisfaction. "Now that you’re here, you can decide how to divide the work among yourselves."
Jeff stepped forward slightly, his gaze sharp and calculating.
"But rember one thing," he added, his voice turning colder. "For the next year, you’ll be repaying us for bringing you here."
The three newcors exchanged brief glances before nodding in agreent.
Jeff tilted his head slightly, studying them with curiosity. "Since this is our first eting," he continued, "why don’t you tell us your nas?"
The first one, a woman with long, flowing silver hair, lifted her chin slightly. "My na is Siya," she said calmly.
The second one followed, her voice soft yet clear. "I am Ariana."
The third, the only male among them, spoke with a faint, detached tone. "Paris."
Ferrero nodded slowly, absorbing their introductions. "If that’s the case," he said, clasping his hands together, "we should begin planning imdiately..."
"Wait," Jeff interrupted sharply, raising a hand.
Ferrero frowned, clearly displeased at being cut off. "What now?"
Jeff’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Before anything else, they need suitable bodies," he said firmly. "Without proper vessels, their existence won’t last within Earth’s environnt."
Ferrero’s expression stiffened, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"We can manage that," he replied, though his tone lacked confidence.
Jeff shot him a brief glance, one that carried a silent challenge. "’If you could manage it, you wouldn’t still be clinging to that body,’" his eyes seed to say.
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