[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5FqwUwv.jpg?1[/img] [h3][b][color=00aeef]Chinami Nadakai[/color][/b][/h3][/center] As the fusion resolved, for a brief moment, Chinami felt the all too familiar unnerving sensation of almost being in two places at once for a period in time. And then the moment passed, and she was curled up atop her bed in a fetal position. Alone, [i]safe[/i] at least, she couldn't stop the trembles of terror from turning into body-wracking shakes, as she sucked wind, struggling to breathe. Her vision almost felt blurred, even though it was likely more down to the low light of her room. [color=00aeef][i]You're having a panic attack, Chinami,[/i][/color] some clinical part of her noted. [color=00aeef][i]You need to calm down. Stop. Think. This isn't the first time. You know the exercises, and you know what to do. Use them, dammit![/i][/color] The trembling Goth, still gasping for breath, uncurled herself and shakily sat up, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, as she forced herself to [i]stop[/i]. Against every instinct her body was throwing at her, she held her breath briefly, before placing a hand on her stomach and paying attention to how it moved. Normally, when one inhaled, their stomach would bulge out, while the inverse happened on an exhale. The breathing exercise required one pay attention to that process and deliberately invert it, sucking their stomach in on inhale, pushing it out on exhale. Slowly. Steadily. Always keeping in mind that the struggle for oxygen was an illusion, [i]one they could break through[/i]. [i]In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out...[/i] After all too long, her breathing steadied. Oxygen flowed freely and sweetly once more, and Chinami simply spent several minutes... just... [i]being[/i]. Just existing. Living. Breathing. Listening to herself. To the thump of her steadying heartbeat. To the world. The sound of a city on the edge of night. [i]This[/i]. This was [i]real[/i] meditation. This was what she practiced early on, to quell the memories of being [i]hunted like an animal[/i]. This was how she learned to be in tune with her own body, with its ebb and flow. This was [i]hers[/i]. It was [i]precious[/i]. And it was nothing like what that [i]damned Nightman[/i] was doing! Chinami honestly couldn't help her heartbeat accelerating a little at the mere thought of him. A potent cocktail of fear and [color=ed1c24]hate[/color] churned within her... [i]Hate[/i]? Yes, she determined after a moment's thought, she [i][color=ed1c24]hated[/color] [b][color=9e0b0f]that man[/color][/b][/i], more than she'd hated anyone in a [i]long[/i] while. In fact, she couldn't recall when she'd last truly [i][color=ed1c24]hated[/color][/i] another living being at all. Dr Nightman had invaded her privacy, threatened her, had the [i]gall[/i] to be annoyed by her returning the favor, and he had [color=f26522][i]humiliated[/i][/color] her in a way no-one had ever managed before. She'd fucking [i]cracked[/i] under his pressure, under his schemes, and now? He had truly wounded her [color=f26522][b][i]Pride[/i][/b][/color]. Now she was supposed to run away and leave him be? Chinami's body grew hot, her Gift writhing and all but [color=f26522][i]howling[/i][/color] in rage beneath her skin. On the one hand, her letter had said she wouldn't return, and she would feel [color=f26522]filthy[/color] breaking her word, a word that she [i]damn well[/i] didn't give so easily! But was the hit to her Pride from breaking her word worse than the hit she'd suffer not retaliating against that absolute Bastard? Would she really be content now, merely running away to Mephisto's and avoiding him? Would that even truly protect her? [i]No[/i]. Not at all. If he was determined to target her, someone like him with a mental gift would only need to catch her off-guard [i]once[/i], and it was all over. He could go after her on the streets. He could come after her at [i]home[/i]! He could go after her [i]mother[/i]. [i]Nowhere was safe as long as he lived[/i]! [color=00aeef]"[i]Dammit[/i]!"[/color] she hissed out, slumping onto her bed, her clasped hands pressed against her forehead. [color=00aeef]"Mother fucking [i][b]damn it all[/b][/i]!"[/color] She... she didn't want to kill him. Well, she [i]did[/i], but she didn't want to step out of line, didn't want to abandon the rules of society she'd so strictly adhered to up till now. All she wanted was a Quiet Life! Was that really so much to ask?! Then she [i]remembered[/i]. The subtle threat. The real and true [i]promise[/i] in her letter. While she'd claimed she wouldn't return, she'd also declared an absolute truth! She was always one to shy away from conflict, one who shied away from using her powers to their truest terrible potential. She sought peace... but she was always prepared for war. Should she be faced with a fight she could not avoid, a true threat, there was nothing she could do except her absolute best. Yes, if Nightman wanted to prey upon her... he'd find himself to have another thing coming. Her body was trembling with something new, something she'd not experienced in all too long. [color=f26522][i]Anticipation[/i].[/color] For too long, she'd held back. For too long, she had bottled up every possibility dancing on her fingers, all the greatest and most terrible ways to remake this world in her own image, to have the very fabric of creation dance to her whims. For half a decade, she had suppressed those temptations, knowing they had every risk of quickly developing within her a god complex or the like. Utter foolishness, of course, considering the existence of the actual Gods, but she knew the risk was there. And she had no desire to succumb to such delusions. She had told Nightman that she would face the unavoidable with everything she had. Unfortunately for him, he now [color=f26522]qualified[/color]. Her Spirit enveloped her body, as options bloomed in her mind's eye. She didn't know what Nightman's Gift was. That was a problem. Further, she didn't know if the man in the suit also had a Gift, potentially a different flavor of mental as well. Or worse, what if he had some kind of Gift or magic suppressing ability? Chinami's brow furrowed, as she shuffled through her alternate presents, the alternate existences of her body, mind and soul. She was down two out of her typical ten charges that she could safely use in a short period of time. Technically, she could go further, but that carried... [i]risks[/i] to her health. And if she were to allow herself to push further, she would fall into the trap of thinking, "oh, just one more usage couldn't hurt" and fall to her own hubris. Right now, she had lost one charge from ritualistically transforming both the letter and the building. Given the fact that she'd taken the time to do so carefully, she had put less strain on her body and used up the equivalent energy of a single panicked change... like her teleportation. So, she was down two out of ten, and what she was looking to do was imbue herself with immunities to potential threats. On the surface, blanket immunity to a single thing almost sounded simple, but on a metaphysical level, that was [i]extraordinarily far[/i] from the case. As it happened, even if she did it ritualistically, the changes would still cost her a single charge's worth each, even if she did multiple at once. Grimacing, Chinami also acknowledged that... she was on a time limit. If she took too long, Nightman would have more time to work his schemes on at least two captives, the boy in the room and the one she'd seen entering from the roof. In this matter, the matter of free will and mental sovereignty being violated? In perhaps that matter alone, she could [i]always[/i] genuinely empathize with and seek to save others. That was her moral line in the sand, and among what few firm ones she held, it was the most absolute. So, she had little time, and she was going to need to do a rush-job mass change. She had time to do a single ritualistic change, so that would have to do. Inhaling slowly, Chinami held her breath for a moment, finalizing her choices, before seeking out a meshed singularity of them, and single possibility that covered all her needs. Exhaling, she began. [color=00aeef]"Psychic immunity."[/color] For obvious reasons. It would protect her mind and body. [color=00aeef]"Absolute presence concealment."[/color] To stop her return from being noticed till it was too late for them. It wouldn't make her invisible to mundane senses, but to the supernatural? She might as well not exist. And better yet, it should stop her mind from being read. [color=00aeef]"Unconsciousness immunity."[/color] Just in case the Doctor's power was somehow that specific. As a bonus, it would also protect her from knockout blows and ensure she could continue resisting till the death, no matter how much pain she was in... if it came down to that. [color=00aeef]"Gift ward."[/color] To prevent her Spirit from being denied to her in any manner. Mulling over her choices, Chinami chewed her lip in thought, the [color=aba000]Greedy[/color] terrified part of her urging for [color=aba000]more[/color]. She'd need to retain at least two charges to potentially free both victims, and having another two spare for a potential fight sounded smarter than not having them, especially if she needed to heal the wounds of herself or others. Or rather, scratch that, she'd have only three charges to spare, since she needed to use one to return quickly. Which meant she might need to try mundane things or a single all-purpose method to free the victims if she still wanted two spare for battle. Dammit, she'd just have to wait and see what was awaiting her and use the remainder wisely in the moment. Exhaling once more, Chinami allowed her changes to complete, her body vibrating, as it was overlaid with her current -and suddenly past- self. For the next three to four hours, she should hopefully be protected from that [color=ed1c24]Bastard[/color]. She'd make use of that time wisely. Taking a minute to catch her breath from the massive change and wipe the sweat from her brow, Chinami firmed herself in determination, reached out to the countless possibilities arrayed before her, and teleported back to the roof of the Nightman Clinic. The rain was roaring in her ears once more in supplementation to the thunderous drumbeat of her heart, as she walked to the edge of the roof. With an enhanced hop, she landed atop the fence, her balance teetering in slow motion to her accelerated perceptions. No more [color=6ecff6]hiding[/color]. No more [color=f26522]running[/color]. They settled this grudge [i][color=ed1c24]here and now[/color][/i]. And then she was in freefall, landing in a heavy crouch before the entrance to the Clinic. Straightening up, the Goth enveloped herself in her Spirit, ensuring all but its eyes were invisible, and flung open the door, stepping inside, as the water slid off of her. Her shoes clapped loudly against the tiles, as she strode quickly down the entrance hall and entered a clear reception area. Her crimson eyes narrowed in unison with the glowing blue lenses overlaying them at the receptionist, as she barely refrained from outright stalking closer, her hands folded behind her back. Even so, her approach towards the front desk had a distinctly predatory edge to it, as she inquired all too calmly, [color=00aeef]"Ma'am, two boys entered the premises this evening, one blonde, one brunet. I know they are still here. And I'm quite certain they also happen to be with one Doctor Nightman."[/color] Lies, or rather, mere speculation, but they didn't know that. There was every chance they had been taken elsewhere by this point, given the full minutes it had taken her to quell her panic attack and enhance herself. She didn't see the blonde here in the reception area, so he was already under personal threat by Nightman. [color=00aeef]"Tell me where they are. [i]Now[/i]."[/color] She half considered that she could feign being sent by the boys' guardians, but it was likely that the receptionist had a picture of her as a potential "patient" and would be able to call her out immediately.