Two women were laughing in a dark office on the top floor of the Tower of the Chosen, hunched over a blue tarp covered with scraps of metal, red glass, and fabric made of synthetic fiber. The development of the Soul Shell was nearly complete, its finished shape finally coming into focus.

"It’s perfect, Erica, I can't believe it! You did it!"
"You did all the heavy lifting. And you came up with the i-idea... I just applied the finishing touches."

The two girls dressed in identical black business suits hugged each other. With their bodies squished up tight, a satisfied smile spread across both faces. Miss Planner was proud, and her pride overflowed into Erica, filling the taller girl with a sudden rush of confidence and happiness.

The armor was sleek, smooth, dangerous looking. It was all black, all except for the red glass eyes on the helmet. It wasn't exactly the Soul Shell that Miss Planner had originally envisioned. She would have been perfectly happy with a bulkier, more colorful version like her prototype. But Erica insisted that the finished product should look 'cooler' than the original, and Miss Planner wasn't about to argue about such a minor detail when Erica had contributed so much to making the final product possible.

As for her idea to make the cores out of souls from the God Vessels... it wasn’t allowed, but they had all they needed for now, and if the testing went well enough, Miss Planner might be able to get permission from the Elders to make more.

"When do you... when do you think we can start producing it at scale?”
"Hmmm. We need to prove it works first. We’re getting a big batch of recruits this week, right? I'll snatch up a few for the research division, make them some extra-powerful suits, and then send them out to kill Controllers or something."

"How many people do you think we're going to need?"
"Maybe twelve or so? The executives let me get away with a lot, but they don't like it when I take too much of the talent. Manpower’s a little tight right now.”
"I... um... I'll do anything I can to help."

Miss Planner patted Erica on the back, smiling broadly. Erica blushed, then laughed, then looked away awkwardly. It took her by surprise, the way Miss Planner was looking at her.

"Hey, do you want to try them out right now?"
"N-now?"

"That's why you made two smalls, right?"
"I suppose so... and I am curious..."

"Look away, okay? I'm going to change first."
"You're changing in here?"

Miss Planner was already unbuttoning her blouse, kicking off her loafers and sliding her blazer onto her chair. Erica blushed and turned around. She saw her mentor's shadow stripping in the corner of her eye, heard the click-click of buttons, the ruffle of a dress, the spray of a bottle of perfume...

CREAK!

"Hey, boss lady... do you have a minute to- whoops!"

The door opened wide, and there was Gordon standing on the other side.

"Eeep...!"

The two girls froze. Their heads jerked around, staring daggers straight into his chest. Gordon covered his face and pulled the door shut again, terrified of Miss Planner's wrath. He'd promised her he was always going to knock from now on, and here he was...

"Guh... uh, sorry, ma’am..."

Miss Planner glared at the door, eyes cold, mouth tight. At least it was so dark he probably didn't get a good look. She still had her bra and panties on, at any rate...

Erica whimpered in the corner, holding a handkerchief to her nose and trying not to scream. Gordon cleared his throat nervously from behind the door, taking deep breaths. His heart raced, and he was sweating profusely. He was already nervous about coming up here, and now he'd blown any chance he had of securing Miss Planner's cooperation with a single careless mistake.

"Gordon... we've gone through this little routine before, and I'm getting quite tired of it. You know how to knock, don't you?"
"Ummm, yes, of course! Sorry!"

His face burned bright red, his mind blank. He didn't want to be here anymore. Miss Planner flicked the lights on and opened the door to let him in, looking exasperated. Her hair was disheveled and her skirt crooked.

"Alright, Gordon. Come on in. Watch your step. We're working with a very sensitive set of psychic materials here."

Gordon followed Miss Planner into her office like a zombie. He was starting to feel sick. He saw everything. Miss Planner was wearing a white, utilitarian bra, a matching set with her plain white panties. She was spraying perfume into her armpits like an middle schooler getting ready for gym class. It made his knees tremble in fear just thinking about it.

"Erica, would you mind giving us some privacy? If you want to get changed in the bathroom, I'll meet you in the hall as soon as we're finished."

"Yes!" squeaked Erica, and she ran out of the office. Gordon's heart thudded so loud in his ears that he could barely hear the door closing behind her.

"Now, Gordon... what's going on?"

She crossed her arms, frowning sternly at the poor soul sitting across from her.

"Uhhh, well, I..."
"Come on. I'd love to chew you out, but I've got no time for this right now. Just tell me why you're here.."
"Right. Well, see, Miss... uhh, Planner..."

Gordon stuttered nervously and swallowed audibly. Miss Planner stared back, waiting impatiently for him to finish. After nearly twenty seconds of excruciating silence, Gordon continued.

"I want to transfer to the recruitment division."
"Hmmm... that's a surprise. You don't like being an analyst anymore?"

"No, no! I do. In fact, it really... I mean, uh, I really love the work I do with you and Alex and Tracy. But my... my heart just isn't in it right now. I think God has a different plan for me."

Gordon took a big breath and smiled shyly. He wanted Miss Planner to understand and approve of what was happening inside his heart. But she didn't smile back, her gaze fixed firmly ahead, her mouth a straight, grim line of displeasure.

"You know we're short-staffed as is. I don't care if God needs you. I need you. You're too valuable."
"I don't mind if you need to keep me on for another month or so while you get things sorted out. But I'd appreciate the transfer. I'd owe you one."

Miss Planner sighed heavily. She'd worked so hard to train him up and just when he was starting to show results, he wanted to jump ship right in the middle of the Chosen Ones' busiest season ever. Why couldn't Alex ask for a transfer instead? Gordon was the only decent analyst she had left!

"Look. I don't want to sabotage you. I'm happy to help you go wherever you want to go. But if you're willing to be a little flexible on this, I can offer you a retention bonus if you can stick around for six more months. Six months."
"It's not about the money, ma'am. I just feel like this move was meant to be. You know? This whole year was... God guided me. It all happened perfectly, in the right way, in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, to get me to where I'm at right now."

The little blonde woman put her face in her hands, frustrated by Gordon’s persistence. He sounded like he was on drugs. If the God of Destruction wanted to use someone to accomplish his will, wouldn't he pick somebody more qualified than this high-school dropout with a lackluster work ethic and a nasty habit of walking in on his boss when she was changing?

"Fine. I'll help you, Gordon. Did you have a particular position in mind?"
"Well... uh... if you don't mind... I was hoping you could get me connected with someone from the Hands of Light."

"I'll give Francis your number."
"Yes, ma'am! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

If Gordon was delusional enough to think he was getting messages from God then there was probably no point in keeping him around as an analyst, anyway. She'd find someone who was less of a hassle to replace him. Maybe an acolyte or a former Sage or something.