Psychic Parasite

May 2nd, 6:30 AM; a man gently knocked the door of Laila's house. The man wore a set of thin cotton clothes that were dyed in a shade of green and blue, presenting a mild look, accentuating his handsome face. He held a small bag, filled with something soft. His eyes, filled with worry, expressed exhaustion as he patiently waited for the masters of the house to respond.

Some seconds later, followed by a series of approaching footsteps, Laila's mother opened the door. On seeing the tired figure of Mr. Bone, she hurriedly invited him inside.

"Is everything alright?" After a moment of hesitation, seeing Mr. Bone relish the hot cup of coffee she had brewed, she took the initiative to ask. "Should I wake up Jyorta?"

"No, I am sorry to impose on you. My wife got drafted for a Flying Signature Raid, so she is currently at the Limitless Tower, attempting to breakthrough. I brought some of Jyorta's clothes; can I trouble you to look after him for a couple of days?" Mr. Bone said, awkward at holding a conversation.

"Oh, my," Laila's mother hurriedly placed a hand over her mouth, suppressing her shock. "Why did she get drafted for such a dangerous mission? The last time I talked with her, she had accumulated enough contribution to stay within the city for a decade."

"The military is launching this expedition to obtain a rare mineral they have recently discovered. This mineral can be smelted into terrifying weapons, so they are placing heavy emphasis on it. Moreover, most of the Developers and Shifters from the 7th Ring are being drafted for this mission. I just received a notification; the official statement for my drafting will be delivered later today." Laila's father, holding a coffee mug filled with aromatic coffee and a newspaper in the other, walked out.

"Darling, how could they do this?" Laila's mother became grief-stricken, tears streaming out of her eyes. "You just returned from a mission last week. Dispatching you again, that too in such short notice; this will affect Laila's life, a lot."

"In times like these, I am consoled by the fact that you haven't focused on improving your strength. You wouldn't ever be tasked with such dangerous missions, giving you plenty of time to nurture Laila." Laila's father hugged her, consoling her worries.

"If there was an option to decline, I would have forced my wife to abandon this mission, but sadly, the authority of the military can't be questioned." Mr. Bone sighed.

"Your son can stay here for as long as he wants." Laila's father said. He then sat on the sofa and continued to drink his coffee. Mr. Bone finished his coffee, partially satiating his stomach that raised protests of hunger, and handed the bag filled with Jyorta's clothes to Laila's mother. Bidding them farewell, he rushed out of the house, taking the lift to reach the 50th floor.

Entering through the security check, flashing an ID card, he hailed the metro train that arrived in 2 minutes, boarding it and finding an empty seat to rest. He sighed, closing his eyes to calm his tensed nerves. An hour later, a mechanical voice alerted him of the station, prompting him to get off.

Sector 1, Limitless Tower; Mr. Bone rushed inside, hurriedly inquiring about the status of his wife at the reception counter. The receptionist lady checked through the logs, verified the information through different channels, and turned to look at the messy individual standing before her.

"No problem as of now, everything's going smooth. Please have some rest; you might have a nervous breakdown at this rate. You should know that having a steady mental state is a priority, especially for Wave Controllers like you. Breakfast will be served in an hour in the counter there." The receptionist lady pointed Mr. Bone towards a corner of the reception hall, towards a hallway that led into a small room.

Mr. Bone weakly acknowledged her words and found a sofa in the reception hall to seat himself. He didn't have the mood to read a magazine. He scanned through his surroundings and noticed no one other than the receptionist in the reception hall, painting an eerie picture.

Sitting alone in such an expansive hall ate away at his mental strength, a little at a time. Mr. Bone forced himself to open a nearby magazine, surfing through it in order to distract his attention. The magazine, titled 'Daily Attractions' featured landscapes beyond the walls of the city that retained a semblance of scenic beauty.

Even though the presence of grotesque monsters spoiled his enjoyment of the sceneries, he felt his mind ease a little. The magazine was successful in pulling his attention to it, maybe a reason why the Tower personnel displayed it there in the first place.

"Would you like some coffee?" A slender hand extended a coffee mug towards Mr. Bone, catching his attention. Putting the magazine away, Mr. Bone sized up the receptionist lady and thanked her offer, taking the coffee mug.

"Thank you," Mr. Bone sipped the coffee and felt his insides warming up. It was cold in the mornings; moreover, the Tower lacked insulation to warm up inside the building. It also lacked any ventilation to prevent the heat from accumulating during the day.

"We used to offer basic comforts long ago," The receptionist lady said, a trace of longing present in her eyes. "But, after a research proved that a comfortable environment increased the failure of a breakthrough, they were removed."

"As long as the chance to breakthrough increases, no one will mind a bit of discomfort." Mr. Bone said, having calmed down to a considerable degree.

"Indeed, but it is quite vexing for us staff to work in such conditions for prolonged periods. Moreover, it gets incredibly hot and stuffy during this time of the month." The receptionist lady complained. Having finished her coffee, she took the empty cup from Mr. Bone, gave him some words of encouragement, and walked towards her desk, resuming her work.

…

7:45 AM, Jyorta woke up in a daze as he stared at his unfamiliar surroundings. It took him a long while to realise that he had slept in Laila's home. He folded the bedsheet, arranged the messy pillow back to order, and skirted off towards the kitchen. There, he saw a woman cutting up some vegetables, a pan on the stove before her, filled with simmering oil.

"Good morning Aunty!" Jyorta said with a cheer. He then carefully tiptoed towards her, leaning forward to smell the delicious fragrance of the cooking.

"Morning Jyorta, did you have a good sleep?" Laila's mother said.

"I did," Jyorta replied with a yawn. Obviously, he had stayed awake for greater lengths during the night, talking with George. They both shared a bed, while Laila slept with her parents in a different room.

"Can you wake up Laila? She isn't one of those morning people," Laila's mother said as she wrapped the cut vegetables in dough and dipped it in the simmering oil.

"I have plenty of experience in waking up my sister. You can leave it to me." Jyorta lifted his palm and performed a cute military salute. He then rushed out of the kitchen, the sounds of laughter following him. In a matter of seconds, Jyorta returned to the kitchen, his expression full of confusion.

"Aunty, there are too many rooms. Where is Laila sleeping?" Jyorta asked.

'C-Cute!' Laila's mother resisted her urges to pinch his adorable cheeks as she held her laughter, pointing towards a direction with her index finger.

"The second room on the right."

"Okay!" Jyorta ran towards the room, finding Laila under a layer of bed sheet, her hair dishevelled, looking like a bird's nest. Just when he was about to wake her up, his eyes became glazed, his body coming to a stop.

'I don't know how she might react after getting woken up with tickles. Let me test the extent of my control of Jyorta.' The blue soul thought as it tried to make Jyorta's body walk forward. A faint resistance stemmed from his body, increasing in intensity as time passed, the body refused to move.

The blue soul hurriedly disengaged its connection, reverting to the state of an observer. It only connected to a tiny portion of the brain, to process a couple of its thoughts.

'If I connect to one of his senses, then Jyorta is unable to make use of it until I relinquish my connection over it. Does that mean I should only wait until he is asleep to connect to his senses? Moreover, the resistance his body can mount is getting fiercer and fiercer, an expected outcome of him growing up. Moreover, his soul is also growing, pressuring me to invade faster. Otherwise, it might take decades to conquer his soul.'

'Another point I noted is that, while invading his soul, the blueness in my soul is getting diluted. Only after a long time does its concentration recover. According to the creepy-haired man, the blueness in my soul is the memories of my previous lifetime, an accumulation worth two decades. So, I should conquer his soul before he grows up any further, enriching his memories. The question is, how can I conquer his soul faster?'

Jyorta seemed to be in thought, his eyes regaining their focus, hesitating to wake up Laila. His eyes lit up with an idea as he rushed to the room he slept in, gazing at the figure of George who occupied the entire bed. He looked to the side and spotted a notebook. Picking it up, Jyorta slowly retraced his steps until stood at the entrance, one hand holding the door.

Aiming at his sleeping friend, he gently threw the book, ensuring that it doesn't hurt him, closing the door hurriedly. He ran towards the room Laila slept, peaking out to see if George walked out. Unsurprisingly, George walked out, murmuring something, in a sleepy stagger, rubbing his right shoulder where the book fell. Acting nonchalant, Jyorta walked out of Laila's room, acting surprised when he spotted George.

"George," He ran to the fellow, "Help me wake up Laila. I've been trying for the past 5 minutes, but she shows no sign of waking up."

In his sleepy state, George followed Jyorta, embarking on a grand mission of waking up the sleeping princess.

8:45 AM, around a dining table sat Jyorta, happily stuffing his face. To his left sat George, silently eating, using his left hand to cover his cheeks, failing to hide an obvious hand imprint. Opposite them sat an embarrassed Laila, silently eating.

The calling bell chimed once, signalling a visitor. Laila's mother opened the door, talked with the visitor, received a bag from them, and closed the door after exchanging pleasantries. She then motioned for George to receive the bag, amidst his curious gaze.

"Your parents were in a hurry. They just dropped your luggage here and rushed somewhere." Laila's mother said with a sigh. She couldn't help but think with a pessimistic outlook.

'Both Mr. and Mrs. Eagle have been drafted for the mission. It will be difficult for George to adapt to a different lifestyle for the upcoming days.'