Doll Solaris
26. Doll Solaris. She was still bound to the cross-shaped frame. Her golden blonde hair shimmered in the solution, and her ample breasts rose and fell rhythmically. So exquisitely crafted was the doll that it almost seemed to be breathing. I shone my flashlight over her body, examining it meticulously. The restraints binding her wrists and ankles. But they were just ordinary steel shackles. No mana could be felt.
None here. Feeling a clear pang of disappointment, I moved to the next capsule.
[Sword Empress Valkyrie]. Her doll was clad in silver armor, shattered in places, with black bloodstains artfully rendered on the exposed skin peeking through the gaps. The chains binding her were ordinary metal as well. Next.
[Archmage Luna]. The doll in her purple robe was fixed in a floating pose. Holographic magic circles hovered around her, but no restraints were visible.
Hmm, none. Nothing. I was starting to get anxious. Had Camilla not prepared everything that perfectly? ...I couldn't search every inch of this vast underground space. The longer I delayed, the greater the risk of getting caught. Wiping cold sweat from my brow, I quickened my pace.
That was when I spotted it. One capsule tucked away in a dim corner caught my eye. Unlike the others, it was abandoned in a spot where even the lights barely reached, thick dust coating the glass wall. Beyond it, the silhouette of a woman was visible.
[Saint Teresa]. I shone my flashlight on it. The girl was on her knees, hands clasped in prayer. Her white nun's habit was worn and tattered, her hair disheveled. And what drew my gaze... were the black metal rings around her neck and wrists. Intricate runes were engraved on their surfaces, faintly glowing red.
Oh, could that be... I held my breath. That, that had to be it.
Makkokji. That thing, right?
Whoa! Yeah, looks like it.
This was it. Advanced mana restraints. I approached and placed my hand on the glass wall. A faint vibration transmitted through the cold surface. The resonance of mana.
But is this doll real? No way? Makkokji muttered dubiously. I was thinking the same. The other dolls, no matter how intricate, had that unmistakable "crafted" feel. The texture of the skin or the subtle movements of the muscles felt slightly off. But Teresa's doll was different. Each eyelash seemed alive with delicacy, blue veins visible beneath her skin. Above all, the aura emanating from her was different. It had a weight, as if something was truly contained within, not just mimicked.
Something feels off about this one. I shone the flashlight on her face. Her closed eyelids seemed to quiver faintly. Was it my imagination? Maybe just the flow of the solution. But my instincts kept blaring warnings.
It's a doll, but... something's there? Yeah, it's a doll. Makkokji reached a conclusion. I agreed. No life signs. No heartbeat or breathing. But the mana reaction was definite. The suppressive power radiating from those restraints was holding something captive inside this doll. Perhaps even if it was a doll, it housed Teresa's lingering thoughts. Or maybe it was a special specimen Camilla had created for another experiment. Either way, I had no choice. Without those mana restraints, I'd become a slave.
I pulled the hacking tool from my pocket. With this, I could unlock the capsule and retrieve the restraints. My hands trembled. With this, I could catch Berial. Swallowing hard, I plugged the jack into the panel. Complex code flooded the screen.
Makkokji, handle it.
Got it. Hang on a sec.
Silence enveloped the underground warehouse. Only my ragged breathing and the mechanical whirs echoed. Beyond the glass wall, Teresa continued her prayer. I prayed too.
"Open, please."
With shaking fingers, I pressed the final enter key on the panel.
Click.
A faint metallic sound, and the capsule's lock disengaged. The transparent glass wall slowly rose, releasing the sealed air. The solution between the panels drained away. In that instant, a scent pierced my nose—like the musty pages of an old library or dried flower petals. A serene, sacred fragrance utterly out of place amid the pervasive disinfectant smell.
Cautiously, I reached out. My target was the black metal rings on the doll's neck and wrists. Advanced mana restraints. A relic from the Great War ten years ago, a forbidden artifact. My fingers touched the cold metal surface. The runes engraved on it glowed faintly red.
"Whoa! This is the real deal."
Makkokji whooped in my head.
"Jackpot! Feel that mana wavelength? Pure suppression power—even Berial won't budge. Camilla, that freak, where'd she get this and put it on a doll?"
I fumbled for the connection points on the restraints. Mana-sensitive locks. Ones that only opened to demonic mana. Infusing a bit of Makkokji's mana, I heard a tick, and the rings loosened. Carefully, I removed the two from her wrists and the one from her neck. They were heavy. The weight in my palm added a sense of reality.
Done.
Now, just lure Berial out with this and execute the plan. I stuffed the restraints into my pocket and turned to leave. My heart pounded.
"Wait!"
The voice from behind froze me solid. It wasn't mechanical or recorded. It was a human voice, brimming with clear intent.
"What the—shit!"
I spun around, cursing reflexively. Makkokji screamed in shock too.
"Gah! You scared the crap outta me!"
I'd maintained a poker face for ten years, but this caught me completely off guard. An unbelievable sight unfolded before my eyes. The doll of Saint Teresa, who had been bowing her head in prayer moments ago, now lifted it and stared straight at me. Eyes I'd thought were glass now gleamed with life. Deep, transparent blue irises.
"What the hell. That ain't a doll?"
I stumbled back.
"It is a doll."
The doll's lips moved as she replied. The natural motion sent chills down my spine. Her voice was clear and pure.
"But inside this one... h-haa!"
Suddenly, the doll's body convulsed. She clutched her chest, letting out a low moan.
"Th-the goddess... resides here."
"What? What'd you say?"
I stared at her blankly. A goddess? In this rundown doll shoved in an underground warehouse?
"The goddess? Celestia?"
"Yes. Saint Teresa is, in truth, my avatar. Each and every one is a doll. H-huuuh!"
She couldn't continue, moaning again. Sweat seemed to seep through her white nun's habit.
"What the hell, why do you keep moaning?"
I asked, puzzled.
"My apologies. The demons are... haah!"
She bowed her head, breathing raggedly. Oh, right. Outside right now, the "Goddess Corruption Show" was in full swing. The real goddess Celestia was being broadcast live worldwide, subjected to every depravity. The pain and pleasure her main body felt were transmitting even to this avatar doll.
Makkokji, is this for real?
I couldn't shake my doubts and approached the doll. It could be an exquisitely faked fake. A trap planted by Camilla. Cautiously, I reached out and touched her arm.
Zap!
The moment my fingers made contact, static-like electricity sparked. Pure, sharp holy power rejecting the demonic energy inside me.
"Ow, that stings!"
I shook my hand and stepped back.
Shit, that's the goddess for sure! You felt it right away—your hidden demonic energy reacted instantly. Even demons can't detect it!
Makkokji shouted with conviction. As self-proclaimed rank 0 in the demon world, it instinctively reacted to holy power. I swallowed dryly. This tiny doll before me was an avatar of the goddess humanity revered and demons lusted to defile. And she had pierced right through my disguise.
"You. Are you the one who corrupted Prism Pink? Her fake corruption... I saw hope in that."
Her blue eyes fixed on me. They were deep and serene, as if knowing everything.
Fake corruption. Only I, Makkokji, and Prism Pink herself knew that secret. Yet this doll knew it too.
"What nonsense is that? I'm a loyal servant of the Demon King—"
I denied it instinctively. This was enemy territory. Who knew who might be listening.
"You don't have to tell the truth."
She cut me off.
"Just... take me with you. Haaang!"
She trembled again, moaning. The waves of pleasure from her main body seemed to be intensifying.
"Even like this... haaa... h-huh! Wait... I can make myself small."
White light poured from her body. I shielded my eyes from the blinding glow. When it faded, a tiny doll the size of a keychain remained in her place. A palm-sized Teresa doll.
"What the fu—...!"
I picked up the shrunken doll in a daze. It was warm. And I felt a faint wriggling.
