An Eccentric Cult

Meanwhile, the pink-haired girl had finally reached her destination. Block 5, room 2. The same room that Ray just came from.

Once she arrived, she knocked 3 times, signalling a hooded girl to come out and hold the door. "You may enter," she said, her ordinary voice juxtaposing her supernatural attire.

The masked girl complied, nodding her head as she passed by.

The room was small. At the centre, there were three hooded individuals seated around a small table. On it, was a large sheet of paper stretching across the entire surface. This paper was a collection of students faces from a school photo shoot.

The pink-haired girl gently dropped the box onto the table. She then put on a black cloak that was lying on an empty chair and sat down. The one who opened the door also sat down. Now all but one seats were occupied.

"Let us began," a boomed voice from the back of the room. Behind the table, there stood another hooded person, with his back turned. Unlike the others, this student's cloak was different. It was more like a black waistcoat with a hood.

He spun his body around, revealing an animal-skull mask hiding his face.

From his voice, one would assume that he was an older man and though there certainly wasn't a lack of students with a voice deeper than a teenager should have, his voice was both calming and formal, sounding as if it belonged to an aged flamboyant butler.

He walked over. Standing between the masked girl and another student.

He then leaned over the table and picked up the gift box, unwrapping it with precision.

Once he retrieved what was inside, he held the object in the air, as if it were a key to Atlantis, dropping the gift wrappings onto the floor. The item in question was a wide cone-like shape with a small knob protruding from the bottom.

The masked man then moved to an empty chair. As he did this, one of the others got out of his chair and started speaking. "The ritual is now commencing. To those who wish to watch, please move your seats at least one metre away," he announced with a bold voice and stern expression, swiftly following his own actions as he said them. The others followed his lead, sitting together on the side, forming a mini audience.

There was some idle chatter. "Hey, that item belonged to a powerful wizard right?" A boy asked, he was speaking to the man that moved his seat first.

"Indeed," he answered deeply, crossing his arms and legs.

There was a pause and then the boy continued. "Doesn't it kind of look like a spinning top?"

"Blasphem--" the deep-voiced man exclaimed but then stopped himself and took a second look at the object. 'Crap, it really does look like a spinning top,' he thought.

The deep-voice man didn't respond out of disbelief and so the boy redirected his question elsewhere, putting his hand up to be called on by the masked man, who soon permitted the boy to speak.

"Hey Grand Priest, doesn't the ancient artefact look an awful lot like a spinning top? The boy repeated nonchalantly. The others in the audience were baffled by his willingness to ask such a stupid question. Despite this, they were all actually wondering the exact same thing as it did have an uncanny resemblance, but they didn't dare to say it out loud.

Surprisingly, he wasn't reprimanded or ignored, instead, he got an answer.

"It is said." The masked man took a slight pause. "That the owner of this artefact was an incredibly skilful Beyblade master,"

No one said anything. They just sat there with blank expressions. How could they even respond to that?

Then finally, someone broke the silence. His glasses under his hood deflecting the light of the room. He had a voice that gave off an intellectual, Know-It-All vibe.

"With all due respect Grand Priest, the owner of that object died in the year 1372. You should know that he lived long before Beyblades even existed," he proclaimed, unironically adjusting his glasses.

The Grand Priest felt like walking out the door. He couldn't handle the emotional pain he was currently in and felt like he was going to die of cringe. 'It was a joke damn it, does no one have a sense of humour around here,' he thought.

Then, as if to annoy him further, the kid who asked the question in the first place, put his hand up once again. This time, he didn't wait to be called on, essentially making this action redundant. "Grand priest, isn't this room way too cramped for a ritual?"

The man with the deep voice and stern face stood up. "This guy's asking too many questions. Perhaps I should silence him," he threatened, grabbing a nearby broomstick. The girl next to him trying to calm him down.

While that was happening, the student with glasses was busy passionately debating the guy who asked the question, as to how his intellect was superior.

Things were getting discordant as, by this point, the only ones who weren't making any noise were the two masked individuals.

After enduring the chatter for a time, the Grand Priest rose from the chair, walked over to the opposite wall, and violently smashed it with enough force to make a small crater, instantly quieting the room.