The explosions have finally ceased, and I'm lucky to still be standing—having made it out the other side of Miko's wrath alive, and in one piece; opposite of what can be said of all her clones, with their pink fleshy bits and spare parts littering the stadium floor.
The stench...is horrible beyond measure. Incidentally, it is at this point I notice Miko and Miki are both wearing gas masks—my subsequent betrayed look evidently not going unnoticed:
"These rings can materialize other things, aside from weapons," Miko explained, muffled. "Sucks to be an F rank like you."
"You're the original...right?" I ask warily.
"Original…?" She gave a brief laugh. "Oh, I get it. You're thinking my clones are somehow lesser versions of me. So, you wanna make certain that you're talking to the 'right' Miko: the 'original.'"
"Is that not correct?" I glance around nervously, at the scene of carnage. "Otherwise, you're implying that—"
