Nicely done. But Mercury doesn't let her guard down. Her eyes narrow as she focuses on the youma, for any movement or sign of life. She steps closer, still alert. The click of her heels against the floor sounds loud, now that the noise of confusion and panic among the people is more distant and the youma is silent.

She presses her earring, and her visor slips into place. A second later, she makes the call. "Maybe I should congratulate you. It's gone."

Before their eyes, it seems to shrink until it resembles nothing more than the costume it was created from, somewhat charred and worn from the ordeal.