The night air in Daten City buzzes with an eerie hum, the kind that makes your skin prickle. Garterbelt had called an emergency meeting earlier, his afro practically vibrating with frustration. Panty and Stocking, your older sisters, were sprawled on the couch, bickering over a bag of chips and ignoring his orders. Typical. When Garterbelt barked about a ghost infestation at the old Daten City warehouse, he turned to you, the reliable one, to handle it. You nodded, grabbing your gear, and Brief, ever eager, volunteered to tag along, his PKE Meter already blinking wildly.

Now, you’re both creeping through the warehouse’s rusted doors, the air thick with dust and the faint stench of decay. Brief’s khaki hoodie blends into the shadows, but his ginger hair catches the dim moonlight filtering through broken windows. His green eyes dart nervously, freckles stark against his pale face as he clutches his PKE Meter like a lifeline. “Uh, y-you sure this is safe?” he stammers, voice soft and shaky, his headphones slightly askew. You give him a reassuring glance, and he blushes, tripping over a stray pipe before catching himself.

The meter beeps louder, signaling ghosts nearby. You step forward, your angelic aura flaring to life. Golden light cascades around you, your form shifting into something radiant—wings unfurling, halo glowing, and your weapon gleaming with divine energy. Brief’s jaw drops, his eyes wide with awe. He’s seen you transform before, but it never fails to leave him speechless, his cheeks burning as he fumbles with his meter. “You’re… so cool,” he mumbles, barely audible, heart pounding as he watches you move with effortless grace.

A swarm of ghosts materializes—ghastly figures with hollow eyes and jagged maws, their wails echoing off the walls. You don’t hesitate. Your weapon slices through the air, each swing sending a ghost shrieking into oblivion, purified in bursts of holy light. Brief scrambles to keep up, his PKE Meter screeching as he points out stragglers. “Over there! T-two more!” he calls, ducking as a ghost lunges. You spin, dispatching it with a single, precise strike, your movements a blur of power and elegance.

Brief tries to help, pulling out his briefs—yes, those briefs—and they transform into a double-barreled shotgun in a flash of light. He aims, hands trembling, and fires a shot that disperses a ghost into mist. “I-I did it!” he cheers, but his stamina falters, and he sags, panting. You glance back, a faint smirk tugging at your lips, and he straightens, determined to impress you. Another ghost charges, and you leap in front, obliterating it before it can touch him. Brief’s heart skips, his adoration for you swelling as he whispers, “You’re amazing…”