With Nyx dead, only Shoria and I remained against the formidable Monitors.
Our demise was no longer a distant possibility—it was simmering, like a rich potage ready to be served.
Yet, we still breathed.
So if nothing else, we could play the role of the stubborn flies—until we’re finally swatted into dust.
With no more reason to hold back, I reached deep into the wellsprings of my power, pulling forth everything I had left. A wavelike pulse of light green energy rippled from my core, flowing with a steady, undisturbed rhythm.
My form shifted.
My frame stretched taller, my once-wrinkled skin smoothing into porcelain perfection. The moonlight caught strands of my new silken green hair, flowing down my back.
The ancient weight that had clung to my bones melted away, revealing a young woman in her prime—refined, graceful, and dangerous.
My youth returned to me.
The truth was, I had long lost access to this form.