"Your Ghost Spirit?" 500's wooden voice cracked with slight suprised. His distorted form flickered, eyes widening as the neon-blue number on his forehead pulsed violently. He had made certain— absolutely certain— that no spirit could enter this body while he occupied it. And yet, here she was.
Mana.
Her translucent figure was already pressed close to Tyler's soul, weaving herself into his essence. She had been waiting, lurking for the single opportunity when 500's attention wavered. When he was busy clashing with Zuzia, just one second of carelessness was enough. That single instant had given her the chance to slip past his defenses.
