"Wait, I've never heard of anything like this!!"
Hearing Kenneth's words, Nemo screamed, his voice warping with fear and fury like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
His thin arms and legs flailed wildly in Shion's embrace, but to no effect.
In his desperation, Nemo could only summon his duplicate.
But before the duplicate Sailor Nemo could approach, the world suddenly lost all sound.
Every sound seemed to have been cut off by an invisible hand, and the entire dockyard fell into dead silence.
Then, even the light began to betray them.
The LED lighting array on the ceiling, its white glow originally as bright as the midday sun, rapidly faded and peeled away, becoming the dull gray found only in old black-and-white film.
What was going on?
Looking at the duplicate that had stopped not far away, Nemo stared at Kenneth in disbelief.
"Don't worry. It won't hurt. Just sleep for a while."
As Kenneth spoke, he extended a finger and gently tapped Nemo's forehead.
Nemo's eyelids drooped heavily, and his body went completely limp in Shion's arms.
"So? What do we do next?"
Shion laid Nemo flat on the temporarily modified operating table, then asked curiously.
They had the time now, but she had no idea what method Kenneth would use for the reconstruction.
Kenneth did not answer. He merely opened his palm.
Several walnut-sized, pitch-black spheres appeared in it.
They reflected no light at all, like several holes of absolute darkness that had appeared out of nowhere.
"What are these?"
Shion picked one up. It was icy cold, with a texture like some kind of ceramic she had never touched before. Its surface was so smooth that it lacked even a molecular-level imperfection.
"Tools used to carry spiritual-body information—"
Kenneth explained. Naturally, these were Eyecons