"The technology is indeed not yet complete," the tall one admitted, "but we don't have much time. The Spirit Communicator Association has already started requesting support. I've received internal information that they are seeking help from the headquarters above, and headquarters has already approved it."
The pupils of the short one slightly contracted, sensing an ominous premonition in his heart.
"Who are they sending?" he asked.
The tall one closed his notebook and put it back inside his black robe.
He looked up at the short one, moved his lips, and uttered a word.
"A... Prophet."
The short one's face turned deathly pale in that instant.
Prophet.
It wasn't just a nickname, but an official title given by the Spirit Communicator Association headquarters to those spiritualists with strange destiny abilities.
Destiny elements of this plane are extremely rare, and those who can tame and seal them are even rarer.
