The place was larger than they had anticipated. Sycamore had told them it was an old gym, like a small fitness room, but this was a full-blown gymnasium.
They opened the giant locks, and Pierrot and Arc pulled back the foldable metal gates.
Dust flew off, and everyone coughed. When it settled, they all entered the place. It was old and dusty, with sunlight filtering through dirty windows. The wooden floor was scratched and scuffed. Dust and dirt had piled up on the multiple gym equipment in the corner, lining one whole wall on the right, including barbells, dumbbells, and weight racks.
In the center was an old basketball court stretched out, with faded lines and worn-out hoops. Cobwebs hung from the high ceiling, and the air was thick with mold and aged cheese.
"Sycamore said he called in some cleaners," Quill said, covering his nose upon smelling the odor.
"Don't you get it?" Pierrot walked ahead, heading to a small room with a chuckle. "We are the cleaners he called."
Arc and Crescent shared a look and ran to Pierrot to help him with the cleaning tools. Quill was left behind mid-court, his face in a frown.
"Hey, rich kid! Start by opening the windows!" Pierrot shouted from the corner while Arc and Crescent fetched some water.
Quill grumbled and strolled to the closest ones, opening the heavy wooden swivel windows below.
"I'm not in the mood for this..."
It took two hours of work before the smell had alleviated and the dust was no longer in the air.
Pierrot, who had started the cleaning, never got to finish it because of a case and left the job to the three.
They were now lying down in the middle of the court, sweaty and tired.
"Alright, that was our training," Quill panted, and rolled to his stomach, his words muffled.
Crescent sat back up. "Why is it that I'm more tired now than coming back from a white form?" She folded her legs in a meditating position.
"Because you're in normal form. Any person would be tired from that much work," Quill said, his face facing away from them. "I never thought I would see the insides of an exhaust fan in my life..." he added, muffled.
"Then why didn't we just use our form to clean?"
Arc looked at Crescent in surprise, as if she had just discovered a great thing.
Quill chuckled. "Gibbous did that. It will be hard to come back when you don't feel the demon situation is done. Maybe if you're tired..."
"Won't it work if we feel the place is already clean?" Arc asked this time.
"Guys, stop asking stupid questions..." Quill abruptly stood up. "Old man Quercus won't tolerate the use of it outside demon fights and training."
The two frowned. "We've never met the Malachim Bishop yet. When will he be back?" Crescent asked.
"The old man..." Quill put his hand on his chin in thought. "Probably next month?" He started walking toward the gym equipment.
Arc stood up to follow Quill and offered a hand to Crescent. She took it, and he pulled her up.
"Anyway, let's start!" Quill shouted from the other side as he grabbed some mats to lay out in the court.
"Training? Now?!" Crescent protested as they both walked toward him to help.
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An hour of sparring left the three once again on the floor, catching their breaths.
"I'm so done," Quill panted. "Since you are tired too anyway, let's just train you how to seal in your forms."
The other two couldn't say a word, just nodded in agreement, too exhausted to protest.
Quill struggled to sit up, wiping sweat from his brow. "Alright, listen up."
Arc and Crescent slowly sat up, their attention fully on Quill.
"Sealing is our main job. And it's fairly easy. What are our targets?"
"The possessed..." Arc answered softly.
"The possessed. Possession is the crucial part of sealing. Since basically, sealing is overpowering the demon within the body and overtaking it for yourself."
"It's like counter-possession, and leaving the body clean again for its soul to return."
"Do you guys know how we train for that?" Quill looked at both of them interchangeably. "We overpower each other's form."
Arc and Crescent exchanged glances, intrigued but apprehensive.
Quill continued, "We're going to practice on each other. The goal is to sense and overpower the other's energy. It's like a mental and spiritual arm-wrestling match."
"That's interesting." Crescent nodded. "Alright, I'm ready."
Quill gestured to Arc. "You first. Crescent, you'll be the target. Arc, your job is to push her presence out of Crescent's form and replace it with yours."
Arc gave a slow nod. Crescent placed her hand above his, and he closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing.
He took form a minute later, and so did Crescent.
"Feel for another presence," Quill's voice resounded within him. "The foreign one from a human being's, yet familiar as light."
"Once you sense it, push your energy in, but don't be too forceful. It's about control, not brute strength."
Arc nodded, concentrating. He held Crescent's hand and focused on finding her soul gate.
It was a fog of blurred images, and Arc felt lost. It was like navigating through a mist, not knowing where to go. Suddenly, he saw a flicker of light in the distance. He searched for it, closer and closer, until he reached the soul gate.
The room was shrouded in darkness, and he saw Crescent's form, glowing in the middle of the room. He walked towards it in his own glowing form and put his hand on her shoulders.
"Arc, if you can hear me, you now have a sealing symbol on your hand," Quill's voice resounded from the room, audibly everywhere. "You can push the glowing form off of Crescent."
Arc tried to push it down when he suddenly felt Crescent's hand shake. His eyebrows furrowed as he pushed the glowing form faster off of Crescent.
"Stop!" A voice resounded. "ARC! STOP!"
It echoed loud and piercing, and Arc snapped out of it, leaving the soul gate abruptly and opening his eyes. It felt like a punch in the gut, and he panted as he steadied his breathing.
He did not know why Quill forced him to stop until he saw Crescent.
She was coughing up blood. In her white form, slowly flickering, she was now on her knees, salivating and choking on blood.
Arc panicked. His form dissipated, and he immediately took some towels to assist her and a bottle of water. After a few moments of struggling, Crescent finally calmed down and was no longer in her form. She lay on the mat, breathing heavily, and glanced at both of them.
"I'm never doing that again," Crescent said, putting an arm over her eyes. "I heard someone else."
Quill was worried. "Someone else?"
She sighed. "It was..." She slowly sat up and drank more of the water. "It was not Arc." She kept shaking her head.
"W-What did it say to you?" Arc asked, trying to hide his expression by looking down.
Crescent's eyebrows creased further. "Something about using me..." She looked at Arc, and they finally met eyes. "Do you know something about it?"
Arc did not know what to say. "I'm not sure what you mean..."
A wave of silence crept into the room as Crescent maintained eye contact with Arc's wavering gaze until Quill broke off the building tension.
"Alright, alright. Let's ask the seniors later on," Quill's voice turned into a whisper, "or maybe I missed some other circumstances possible for Malachim with sealing training..."
The thinking finished in a few seconds, and he put his hands together and looked up. "But anyway, let's go home."