A/N: For an early warning, this fanfic is bound to have its content ratings raised in future chapters (but not now!) for extreme violence, non-consensual, er, encounter, gore and rather explicit sexual materials.

Also, possible raping of South American ancient cultures regarding its deities in this chapter. I do a lot of winging to connect the cartoons with the facts...sort of.

That said...carry on - and thanks for reading!

XxXxXxXxXx

Her origin laid far in the past, when humans were still too young to this world. The kind who would later rose to dominate the world were but an infant at this time, but she was already a being with power enough to stir the fears of men, manipulating them to serve her wicked ends. Perhaps she was once a fair being with enough purity in her heart to have been called a spirit of goodness but if that was the case neither she nor the humans she had remorselessly used remembered it. Her inside held light no more and there was only a howling emptiness inside the soul of Inti, craving indefinitely for satisfaction that would never be.

Either a god, goddess or even a demon, her subjects' titles for her held no concern for her so long as their desires were hers to feed upon. Their greed was such a delicious thing, a honey to her tongue, and she feasted upon it whenever she could with greed of her own. She could never have enough of it – it gave her power to destroy, to dominate, to instill fears that would in turn presented her with more loyal subjects with more desires in their hearts that she could consume. Her vicious appetite was unappeasable, but she managed, for a time, feign benevolence… but there were minds among her subjects that could pierce her convincing falsehood. They were heretics, quietly cropping up among the populace, sending whispers of rebellion that she was too distracted to take notice. And she had made the gravest mistake of underestimating the power of collective efforts and paid the price dearly. Already a being of the spirit world, Inti was condemned to an imprisonment of unusual nature, craftily devised by her supposedly worshipping shamans and priests. They had trapped her and gave her incorporeal form a physical body but they too had ripped her will from the rest of her now-petrified form and sealed her in a similar-but-smaller statue, rendering her larger body lifeless and inanimate. But the shamans knew that the danger had not passed yet – and using all the skills and knowledge at their disposals, had cursed the soul of Inti into an endless slumber with their most powerful binding spells. The shamans and priests knew the hidden power of a mirror, for by reflecting the image of something, it also reflected the power held by the being whose image it was displaying…and essentially, by arranging thousands of the most reflective crystals they could find around the slumbering Inti, they turned her formidable power into caging its very owner in an inescapable slumber.

And Inti slept ever since.

The priests' and shamans' people, whose civilization later would be known in the modern world as Incas, lived free of Inti's influence, and so was the people after them, long after the Incan people themselves were no more, scattered into diminishing tribes. Humans rose to power while Inti went through her punishment, nourishing vengeance through her dreams in her endless slumber. She had no sense of time except for her growing hunger…and when her need to consume was so great it seemed like it would tear her spirit asunder, a victim woke her up. A human with delicious greed, he had unknowingly gained Inti her freedom, breaking the padlocking curse that had kept her both asleep and imprisoned. And he was the first human whose desire he devoured so utterly only horror remained where the human's hope, mutated beyond recognition, had once been. And she continued to feed, satisfying thousands of years' worth of hunger and even managed to be reunited with her gigantic, petrified body…but her victory was foiled by creatures Inti had never remembered seeing. Human-like, with desires akin to the humans, but definitely not one. Skins with toughness that rivaled Inti's stone-form. Power enough to have crumbled civilizations had they let Inti controlled them. The one, whose name she glimpsed from her possession as McCrane, had a delicious desire that she fed and feasted upon, a liquor of great taste that she had to have him twice…but her wonderment ended abruptly the second time when thousands of mirrors flashed their hypnotic lights and reflected back her power into turning against her, once again forcing her into sleep-imprisonment.

And in her renewed slumber, Inti screamed in rage.

There would come a day when luck and fate would once again sided with her…but for now, her dream was full with echoes of her anger, waiting – as the nights rolled into days and back to nights, the cycle repeating seemingly endlessly – for that moment when she would again be free to feast.

XxXxXxXxXx

Yuuchirou looked up, a hand reflexively lifted to cover his eyes from the glare of the sun. He was used to the heat, of course, having been forced to work under the blazing South American sun day after day in his expedition. Likewise, his wife was not the least bothered by either light or heat, having donned herself a pair of sunglasses and a summer hat in addition to her exercised tolerance for hot weather. People were bustling about the city with little regards to their surrounding and the two Tomonagas were likewise oblivious to them, having had their attentions focused on the building complex that lay before them. It lay in the middle of a vast courtyard sprawled with artful and historic decorations of statues, fountains and trees. There were people strolling about in the place, visitors of little less hurriedness than the citizens they had encountered along the way.

"I miss this place," Yuuchirou could not help the grin – being near anywhere archaeological site always improves his mood and the historic museum he was standing in at the gate now was like his own personal antibiotic against pathogen of dullness.

"Me too. It's wonderful to be back; it has been a while since we came here," Amami replied with voice as full with delight as her husband's.

Under the shadows of her hat's brim her eyes sparkled with child-like wonder which reminded her husband of their first meeting. It was indeed a gift to have a wife with the same interests as himself, what with the time he spent outside the country, Yuuchirou thought to himself and pulled Amami closer by her shoulder. Together they took steps into the museum's courtyard, admiring the various stone statues they passed and offering personal assessments to each other. It was not until Yuuchirou heard his name coming from a mouth not of his wife's that they both realized how far they had descended into fascination of their own, so removed from their physical surrounding that neither of them initially realized the approach of the man in the suit, his hair parted in the middle in a fashion of extreme formality.

"Mr. and Mrs. Tomonaga," the man acknowledged, extending his hand once he was within hand-shaking range. For a fraction of a second Yuuchirou found himself stunned by the gesture, preferring the traditional respectful bow when in contact with fellow countrymen before his more professional side took over. With successfully concealed reluctance, the Tomonaga accepted the hand-shake and put a smile to his mouth.

"Mr. Sakaki at your service. I am the Exhibition Designer of the museum," the other man said though neither husband nor wife needed the introduction. They had glimpses of him from time to time whenever there were matters for them to attend at the museum, even having him around during one or two transportations of particularly valuable artefacts. Mr. Sakaki was merely acquaintance at best as far as the Tomonaga couple was concerned and they had not exactly had close contact all these years of cruising the field of archaeology. However, the air of superiority he wore about him solidified Yuuchirou's irritation though his smile remained where it was. Being a global artefact-digger did not spare him from interacting with annoying people – in fact, this Sakaki was actually a mild case.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sakaki," Yuuchirou replied and his wife mirrored the response. They had had ample training with individuals whose personality deviated from their personal liking and were able to hide whatever it was that bothered them.

"I was informed that you will visit today by the curator, Mr. Ishida. He is away for the moment but will be back shortly. In the meantime, you are free to see the exhibitions." These were said with the barest hint of disdain, apparently finding himself of such high position being an errand-runner of some sort disgraceful, even if it was a supposed favour from the higher-up (or at least, a generous donator, from what Yuuchirou gathered). Yuuchirou instantly predicted prolonged displeasure that would not cease in the man's company. He and Amami uttered the perfunctory thanks and bowed with more stiffness that would have necessary and wasted no time in their departure. After all, neither party looked particularly enthusiastic in the presence of one another.

Though the opening of their visit was discouraging, the rest quickly turned out to be a great experience for them as soon as they stepped beyond the threshold of the main museum complex, where the exhibition items were held for public viewing. In the light of more interesting historical objects, Yuuchirou and Amami's memories of Mr. Sakaki easily faded to bottommost priority while they stopped from one artefact after another, starting with Japan-originated items whose section was the first one they encountered from the main entrance.

"Amami, look here," Yuuchirou called, softly tugging the woman's wife in his direction. What seemed to be a few minutes for the two enthusiasts were in actuality nearing an hour already, and they barely passed their tenth exhibit.

Amami left the gold coins she had been examining, cushioned neatly in padded glass box, for the object that had caught her husband's interest. Peering into the clear glass casing, an old blade lay mounted on a pedestal, its once-sharp edge now chipped on numerous places from extreme uses. Doubtless it had seen blood of numerous foes splashed across its length in its prime.

"Authentic samurai sword from the Edo period, recently unearthed and all in all in pretty good shape."

Both Yuuchirou and Amami jumped; the voice had come from neither of them, but right behind the couple. They whirled around to find a boyish face with freckles splashed across the nose, with a crown of greying hair that matched colours with his beard and thin moustache. Brilliantly sparking eyes peered from behind half-moon spectacles; his mouth was held in a warm smile at the couple in barely-concealed joy.

"Kiyoshi!" The Tomonagas said in unison – indeed, they both were close enough friends with Mr. Ishida that his given name leapt out of their mouths instinctively.

"Ah, it's good to see you two manage it back here; how's life in Mexico?"

"We're adapting, like we always do – but we're doing quite well," Yuuchirou grinned. Standard formality was soon forgotten in company of such easy-going person that no bow or hand-shake was exchanged, instead resuming straight to the conversing part.

"Hmmm, I miss globetrotting with you all but I'm well past my prime. The museum's as good a substitution as I can get these days, and being a curator kept me close to my past," Mr. Ishida said with an air of wistful longing. In overall he was in good shape but genetic commandment had subjected him to Type 1 Diabetes, which disrupted his life significantly enough to hinder him from travelling or being out in the field for days without regular infusion of insulin. Archaeology lost a valuable figure the day Mr. Ishida was diagnosed with the ailment. However, as soon as the dark mood set in, he quickly shook himself out of it and clapped his hand. "Say, have you done visiting yet? If so, I have something I want to show you!"

No, they have not, but Mr. Ishida was almost jumping on the balls of his feet and whatever it was that excited him was worth the priority of his companions too. Yuuchirou and Amami said as much and they were soon led by the older man through passageway restricted to the public. The voices of the visitors they left were muffled but still audible, separated by several walls with considerable thickness, but Yuuchirou and Amami felt not the least comfortable. To them, the atmosphere reminded of forgotten tomb with treasure waiting to be found – and with the prospect of something interesting to be seen, it was sort of figurative treasure for them. At first, Yuuchirou thought that they were heading for their host's office, for notes or articles worthy of note, but the ex-archaeologist led them instead to an area closed with an oak door marked 'STORAGE'.

The trio walked inside, and once the curator flicked on the lamps, both Tomonagas found themselves in a vast room with rows of multi-levelled metal shelves, each filled with artefacts and other historical objects waiting for restoration before they could made it to the exhibit. At present, no one could be seen working on the objects but they were obviously well-cared for. One side of the room was dedicated with metal safes and boxes attached to the wall, inside would obviously be filled with many archaeological objects. The air smelled with a hint of age from the many artefacts stored here – Yuuchirou glimpsed pieces of ancient clay kitchenware on one of the metal shelves – and though generously lit, the place still held a quality of mystery.

"You've been busy," Yuuchirou commented, referring to the many objects he had supposedly acquired for the museum's exhibit.

"Curators still have to find subjects of the past, we just don't have pull Indiana Jones stuffs anymore," He smiled but did not elaborate on the matter. He seemed keen on reaching their destinations as soon as possible and the Tomonaga's intrigue was heightened by the mere hastiness of the man.

Through the space between the shelves they went, Mr. Ishida eventually brought them to the back of the room, where a table stood in prominent relief thanks to the lamp directly overhead. Upon it was a rectangular wooden crate and unassuming in its appearance; the palpable excitement surrounding the museum's curator was saying otherwise. His eagerness proved to be infectious because Yuuchirou and Amami could scarcely hold themselves from overtaking Mr. Ishida in the wooden crate's revelation if not for their sense of respect and propriety. The older man pulled the lid with surprising gentleness and invited them both for a peek inside once the lid was off; the gasps he managed to pull out from both of his guests satisfied him. In unison, Yuuchirou and Amami looked up from the crate's content, their coin-round eyes seeking confirmation in the face of the older man, hardly able to believe their eyes without the curator's guaranteeing word.

The triumphant, almost smug grin Mr. Ishida was already the answer they needed, even without the equally satisfied, "I give you the lost goddess of the Macchu Picchu…Inti!"

xxxxx

"…Now what?"

Yuuta found himself asking with no one to answer but himself; quite in contrary with his parents, Yuuta was in a duller situation even among the Tokyo denizens. Considering that he was without company, and with Yuuta himself preferring the presences of friends and families, the lack thereof expectedly turned his outing to the city into a rather uneventful experience that Yuuta almost wished for a criminal to show up in the city streets rampaging in his giant robot or whatever machine-of-doom he had at disposal, if only to break the greyness in his time. While his parents left for the museum, Yuuta too went to the city for his phone-buying; he had leisurely spent the whole morning flitting from one shop to another, searching one kiosk before moving on to the next, until at last he settled down for one he had taken a liking at a fairly reasonable price. It was a handsome piece of a gadget, with silver casing and installed with applications Yuuta was quite sure to be unnecessary, unless it was for pure fun.

He had spent time exploring his new cellphone, yet as he perused through its many entertainments, Yuuta admitted that he wished more for a living companion rather than a gadget to play with. Returning home would likely be as useless, what with everyone engaged in their own jobs…even Deckerd would find himself occupied, just like the other Brave Polices during the working hours. Yuuta heaved out a despairing sigh; he could choose to go anywhere, but anywhere would still not provide him with companionship that he longed right now unless –

"Yuuta!"

For a few crazy moments, Yuuta did really think that his name had come from the cellphone he was holding; a second later, he realized that the calling voice was not only feminine, but rather familiar to his ears. No, not family-level familiar (or Deckerd-level familiar; Yuuta could have sworn that the Brave Detective uttered his name more times than his own sisters did – not that he minded), but it was nevertheless recognized. Turning around to face its source, Yuuta discovered that the voice's owner was indeed known to him – though the girl waving at him was most definitely unexpected to be there.

"M-Miroku?"

Yuuta mumbled, a little disbelievingly at the newcomer; in knee-high skirt, casual blouse overlapped with black cardigan, and heeled boots of the same colour as the aforementioned cardigan, Miroku's tasteful outfits were the opposite of Yuuta's more simple wear of short-sleeved tee and a pair of faded blue jeans. However, her outward appearance was nothing of a surprise to the young man but rather her very presence at Tokyo; Miroku Satori was a Hokkaido denizen rather than Tokyo, but was sent for her high school study at Nanamagari – which was where Yuuta came to meet her.

Of course, that was before his regional police training at Hokkaido (somewhat ironic, come to think of it, Yuuta thought); with Mr. Saejima having to acquiesce with conditions from his superiors, Yuuta's comparatively easy induction into the Japan Police Force was paid with the three-year training at Hokkaido police academy. There were many good memories fostered during those times, but he was unwilling to recall the farewells of his Nanamagari schoolmates on his last day (or the Brave Polices' downcast response – including Deckerd's. Hell, especially Deckerd's), and Miroku's tear-eyed "good-bye" was a rather depressing example.

And now, out of the blue, after three years, she rematerialized before his eyes.

"Like magic," Yuuta muttered under his breath before taking strides towards her. As they came face to face, Yuuta initially thought that she had grown taller at drastic pace before realizing that the heeled boots were granting her that extra height he had initially confused as growth spurt.

"Hi, Yuuta!" The smile on her face was an endearing one, and Yuuta was infected to reply likewise with his grin. It was, after all, a cheery prospect to be reunited with someone he saw as a sisterly figure.

"Wow, this is unexpected," He said, and laughed at his own speechlessness. She giggled too, the same sound of mirth as he had always remembered…and the surge of brotherly love washed him anew. It was part of the reason he had grown so close to her before; in seeing her alone at her desk in the classroom, Yuuta perceived an air of shyness and sorrow of being excluded, not out of pride but because of simple matter of feeling out-of-place. She was an out-of-towner among close-knitted circle of friends and Yuuta's compassion was invoked at the gloomy sight. It thus created the basis for which their friendship grew over the years.

"That's an understatement, Yuuta," She resumed her giggling, carefree with her usage of Yuuta's given name. And neither did the man minded, for in his mind this girl was the younger sister he never had; as the youngest of the Tomonagas, Yuuta had never had himself a younger soul to care for before Miroku. "Wow…I never thought I'll ever chance upon you. This is AMAZING!"

Yuuta felt a shot of remorse at that; his training had been guilty at consuming his time at the academy that he barely had time (or energy; sometimes he returned to his dormitory with only enough energy to shower before falling asleep) to do some connecting with people outside. "Well, what it we 'celebrate' this little occasion? I heard an excellent café somewhere around here that I haven't had the chance to try."

"Okay – but you'll be paying!" She exclaimed, already taking steps towards said café – whether she really knew which one Yuuta was referring to was anyone's guess though, but the young man followed her nevertheless, feeling as if he owed her that much for his failure to keep in contact.

xxxxx

For a moment or two, they stood frozen in sheer awe by the revelation. Their scientific minds were abuzz with curiousity at the object Mr. Ishida was showing them; the wooden crate was lined with mirrors on the inside wall, and laid with protective fabric on the bottom, cushioning the object that had amazed the Tomonagas even at their first glimpse – an emerald statue of an ancient goddess, long forgotten by civilizations and sought after by those who tried to read the histories of the world. Though only less than half of its entirety survived, what did remain of the intact-statue was otherwise in remarkable conditions – Yuuchirou could still make out the delicate carving of necklace painted with gold round its neck. Its face was also discernible, though strangely with no visible mouth; the holes that served as eye-representatives were filled with bright gemstones of some sort, playing with the light that fell upon them beautifully until they seemed to glow golden in one angle or rustic red from another.

"My god, Kiyoshi…Is this for real? Inti?"

It was the real thing, alright, and Yuuchirou's expert eyes knew its authenticity even without the affirming nods from Mr. Ishida. Inti was widely known as a Sun God…but relatively new discovery had revealed a second obscure figure, with curiously the same name as aforementioned deity of Incan creation, a goddess of unknown origin, worshipped briefly before disappearing almost entirely from the history of Inca; she was sought after exactly because of her rarity – scholars were dying to uncover the truth in her identity and roles but their searches were greatly hindered by the fact that South American ancient languages were barely decipherable, unlike the ancient Egyptians' hieroglyphs. However, only handfuls had been successfully revealed from the passage of time, and one of the most prominent ones had been excavated in Macchu Picchu ruins some eleven years ago and had been subsequently transported to Japan for exclusive display –

"Wait, Kiyoshi…" Yuuchirou's mind raced as his memories strung together, "Where did you get this statue?"

"Why, I have the underwater pipeline repair crew to thank to! They were fixing a broken pipe when they found bits of Inti statue lying on the bottom – I was lucky that they reported this to the museum…" Mr. Ishida finished with obvious satisfaction. It was really a stroke of fortune to have been informed of this accidental discovery for to untrained eyes the debris of the statue might not hold any historical value whatsoever.

Yuuchirou felt his wife tightening her hold on his arm, a reflexive action manifested from her shock – and worry. This must be the very same statue that had given the Brave Polices – and his son – such a headache when the Inti spirit residing within it came to life and parasitize humans she had chanced upon, eleven years ago. The public was informed with veiled truths, for announcing that an ancient goddess had been unleashed among the populace would be pushing their luck too much – so it was instead published that an animatronic exhibit had gone haywire, and the people injured during the events were told that they were disoriented and traumatized by the experiences instead of being mythically possessed. However, neither Yuuchirou nor Amami was just any member of the public, with having a son who commanded the Brave Polices of Japan, and Yuuta was obliged to tell his parents the truth. Though lamenting the loss of such valuable artefacts, they both were relieved that her unusual threat had been eradicated and that her statues, both the large and the small ones, had been lost in the depth of Tokyo Bay. Until now, that is.

Obviously, the Tomonagas' faces betrayed something about the apprehension upon discovering the origin of the statue sand Mr. Ishida was perplexed by this short change from excitement to reluctance. "Yuuchirou, what is it?"

Said man snapped out of his reverie and quickly regained his speech, "I was just wondering…Do you have any plan in putting it into exhibit?"

"After the massacre she caused eleven years ago? Goodness no," The curator answered, swiftly and confidently, surprising both Tomonagas in the process. "They say we are bound to repeat history if we don't learn from it; I don't think I'm that big a fool to assume that doing exactly what we tried to do before would not have the same result."

Belatedly, Yuuchirou was reminded that he was among the people charged with setting up the previous exhibit, eleven years ago; his inclusion with the affair had secured him the knowledge that was kept from the public. Like Yuuchirou and Amami, he knew that there had been no animatronics on the loose, and the hospitalized people were not injured out of delirium. "But why are you showing this to us?"

"For starters? Because I know you will be interested. You both are my friends, and I will be happy to share my excitement with my dearest colleagues. Besides, you of all people I know are specialized in South American cultures…I daresay you will appreciate the opportunity to study it more greatly than others I can think of."

He spoke with perfect honesty and sincerity that Yuuchirou found himself doubting no more. Obviously Mr. Ishida had taken extra care not to have the accident repeating itself this time around; the mirrors lining the inside of the crate reflected the state Inti was originally found and the statue seemed only to have minimal human contact in its latest management. Moreover, the statue itself was no longer whole – perhaps whatever spirit it once housed had fled into the darkness, and the Heart of Inti, the larger statue, had been further destroyed beyond repair. Still, Yuuchirou could not help but ask, "Is it safe, though? How many people have handled the statue?"

"A crew of about fifteen are involved in extracting it from the bay, but only myself and my other assistant have any direct contact. I'm sure it's safe enough for a little observation…it has never been outside the crate once I've put it in – " He gestured towards the mirrors covering the inside surface of the crate, " – and so far as I can tell, I have yet to found people walking around with Inti wrapped about them."

Though there was truth in it, the light-heartedness with which the assurance was delivered took the tension off the edges. Mr. Ishida was cautious in his excitement, they could tell, and they were themselves wary of the potential disaster it might cause when they decided to haul the statue out of its eleven-year underwater grave. And yet…

"Shall we?" Mr. Ishida gestured towards the statue, the twinkling in his eyes suggestive enough of his invitation – and invitation that Yuuchirou, being the enthusiastic archaeologist he was, could never have refused.

xxxxx

She was without power…and she was starving.

Though asleep, Inti's senses went out to the world around her. She longed for sustenance and beyond her imprisoned slumber, there was a beating heart of man whose desires beckoned to her, and the power of his greed's lure roused her from her accursed sleep. Oh, how she wanted to devour them all but the damnable mirrors held her prison, binding her beyond the mortal world. With her power diminished by hunger, and her statue broken, she had no mobility even if she broke free – she needed conduit, a replacement to her unsalvageable statue, to be able to live again…

But she could wait, oh yes, she could. After all, she had been imprisoned for thousand of years before and neither was she idle in her waiting. She might not have enough power left to sustain her possession, as she wont during her past reign of terror, but even in her crippled state her hypnosis manifested subtly in the minds of her nearby preys. She lured them, their eyes drawn to her wrecked form, summoning their interests with her silent voice – it was easy to achieve because there were already basis within them to which her power could find its hold.

But it was not enough.

There was a natural fascination in the aged prey that her power could manipulate but try as she might, Inti's soul could not find a bridge to cross into the man's mind. For days and nights, since he had been 'kind' enough to uncover her from her watery place, Inti dreamt to feast on her saviour's desires. But the mirrors surrounding her had kept her chained to her statue form where she could only lament her inability while feeling his admiring hands and eyes on her; teased by their physical nearness but his delicious greed remained beyond her reach. However, her hope was revived, after days of frustration, when she felt her senses pickup up the presences of two more minds with similarly usable desires of their own. Perhaps she would have better luck with these two newcomers…

xxxxx

Yuuchirou was completely drawn in by the Inti statue. Even if there was only little left of it to be fascinated over, the archaeologist in him was excited at the sight of such obscure South American goddess right before his eyes. The Fat Lady must have sung at her highest falsetto to have granted him such fortune. The Sun God Inti was famous enough, but to have actually laid eyes on the lesser Inti, the unknown Incan goddess was a privilege not many could claim to have. He stretched out a hand and touched his fingers to Inti's stone shoulder.

Yuuchirou was too drowned in his enthusiasm at first, but the smile on his face was wiped away when he suddenly jerked his hand back with a pained gasp.

"Yuuchirou, what… – ?" Amami was quick to ask, concerned at her husband's unexpected reaction but the other hastily waived her off her concern.

"Nothing – just scratched myself a bit," He muttered and showed her his index finger – a small gash was oozing thin line of blood at the very tip of it, apparently seared open when he made contact with the statue's form. "Stupid me – I didn't notice that there was a crack there."

Amami leaned close to the spot pointed by Yuuchirou and noticed that there was indeed a minute fault in Inti's shoulder, its jagged edges glistening with a fresh layer of Yuuchirou's blood. The woman shook her head but could not really blame her husband for the injury – he might be overly enthusiastic to the point of being reckless at times, but this was a wound anyone could have easily gotten; instead she carefully wrapped the fingertips with a tissue she happened to brought along in her pocket, tying it securely to stop the bleeding.

"Perhaps we should have been more careful…" Mr. Ishida slipped in, his tone apologetic as he drew out a pair of gloves from its box, which he had quickly snatched from a nearby shelf. He had been caught up in the Tomonagas' infectious captivation that he too had apparently became oblivious to his surroundings, even forgetting the most basic procedure in handling an artefact.

"Yeah…we should. And sorry about that," Yuuchirou said lightly, implying readily-given forgiveness for his part. He took the advice to heart and accepted the gloves and donning them straightaway. He was impatient to get back down to business, and the stone goddess lying in the crate seemed to hold for him an invitation to satiate every curiousity he had concocting in his heart. What he did not know, however, was that the next time he came into contact with the statue, Yuuchirou had unknowingly made himself the first host to a newly-awakened Inti.