dev 9 - transformation

There's one truth he knew about this - it would hurt.

In fact, so much that the merging process between his circuitry and this spiritual essence might simply prove to be too much. And yet.. you can't really get far unless you're ready to sink yourself in pain, can you? Such progress required sacrifices. If he were to truly become worth anything, then he should do his best and beyond that.

When they arrive to the tower, the drakanite carefully searches in his garments, laying a single hand across his upper chest- it's to feel about the spirit shards, those that were meaning to harbor the essences of the opposites from the Spirit Worlds. Even now, the swirling dark essence and the light essence were struggling against one another, seeking to take complete hold over another..

But it's all about the balance.

"This might be the most risky endeavor yet." A pause. The lips of drakanite idly purse in thought, pondering just how this will go..

"I could technically do this on my own, but I feel like I might give in to pain mid-way and be unable to continue. When I collapse, I need someone to carry through, even if it hurts."

"So the purpose is.. I'll be merging spirit shards and their respective essences in my circuitry. I will take care of the spiritual part, but you would need to mostly help me with the mana part. I might not have enough endurance to do both without passing out."

"Even if I scream in pain or become unconscious, you'd have to continue until the merge is complete. Can you do that?"

By a single look, it was clear that he was meaning this. Besides, this wouldn't be the first time she helps him out in such way.. because she already installed spirit shards in him.

This should be easy, right?
(Keitaro)

Balance in all things is what the realm is supposed to have. And when there isn't - the powerstruggle begins. Where people cannot fight against the world around them, so instead, they begin to fight amongst themselves. That much, could be seen as to how external problems quickly became 'internal' squabbles amongst each place. From people talking behind one another's backs to others plotting to kill those that they've once liked or loved....In many cases, she imagines that they weren't the only ones. Nevertheless, Keitaro…He had always seemed innocent. Even when wanting the worst outcome for those that he cared nothing for....A part of her felt as if he would still save them. Not because he wanted to..

But because he seems to be bound by duty.
Because it'd be the right thing to do.

And perhaps, she likes someone who had their own peculiar vices. Perhaps, she liked the silent suffering. Or maybe, she liked the way that he had praised her...Her body, the gentle embrace of agony and pleasure. But alas, she remains here. Watching the gesture of his hand pressing upon his chest...Her gaze drifting elsewhere, if only briefly..

"I imagine that it shouldn't be so difficult...Considering how long your body has been implanted with the spirit crystal.." She is aware of his mana circuits and his body. Aware of how he casts...Of the lightning that swirls and arcs to his beck and call..

"I can begin. Just tell me when."
(Ashalle)

In truth, it was for the most part the reason why never pursued those that harmed him in so many ways. While it was a complicated story.. his reason was fairly simple - he wished to focus on other things and do what's right, despite all that Agartha is plagued with. After all, when so many people fail to uphold that duty.. what does that actually make this continent, in the end?

A physical copy of Helheim? Worse?

Just like the Spirit Realms hang in balance, he envisioned the same idea for the physical realms. Yet.. part of him realized that it wouldn't be always possible, and sometimes, certain sacrifices would have to be made. There's only hope that he could stave those off for as long as even possible before he has to make a decisive choice.

"It shouldn't." Spoken briefly, and steadily, he unveils a clear sight upon those spirit shards. One side is full ofswirling mass of dark, and another is filled with light; both seem to act in aggression against another, and both essences are taken from different parts of the Spirit Worlds. And yet, both remained spiritual at core.

If he simply tapped into either side, all he would do is make favors and inevitably 'forbid' himself from ever understanding perspective of another. It would be a story in which he would be bound by duty for a single side only.. and that's not what he wanted.

"I'll start shortly. No matter what happens, keep going." A warning and request alike. If she were to simply break it off at some point in the middle of ritual, much of it could be prompted fairly useless.

The steady glow begins to form around the spirit shards. Where the spiritual essence carefully spreads across his body like a webbing, and the transparency settles all around his body in the most unnatural manner. This wasn't meant to be of this world. But the struggle begins.. and steadily, some of his flesh is forced into 'disappearance' of sort, where it flickers in and out of existence. Nothing about it is natural, and the drakanite before her steadily obtains the glow of the creatures that she could've seen in the spirit realms.

A slow bead of sweat shows the signs of fatigue. The pain becomes apparent when the masses of dark and light carefully creep towards his body, spreading their influence alike- and meeting right across the middle of his body with aggressive hiss, much like there's a burn.

"Begin now.."
(Keitaro)

But that's just being hopeful. If there was something that she had known - especially in times such as this, it was that attempting to push the envelope within a certain direction could cause consequences that aren't easily mended. Damage that can be broken - for even this world is a body. And even the life stream is supposedly it's own figure of work...Holding different entities and places that they've never seen...And she imagines that this is just tipping the iceberg. Nothing more than a mere cusp of him uncovering what true potential that he could seek...Especially with the teleportation device in hand.

"Understood." She knows her place. And knows that he has been a project that she has been studying for quite some time. And so, whenher hands would press upon his chest...As if she were feeling the fluttering of his heart for the last time, even he, would begin to feel the foundation of her intention. It is like no other. A strange love. And yet, a different desire. The sturdy foundation of holy earth and crystal dare to come together within this moment...For where hands press upon his chest...They now cover the masses of dark and light, that still, in some strange way...Are capable of bursting through her hands..

"If you need to.." Only a hand drifts towards his own...For him to grasp as she soon begins to meld the crystal into his circuits. It starts as a slow burn....Where she would begin to disintegrate layer and layer...Allowing him to feel the coursing, conflicting masses within his frame...

Forcing his body to flicker and fade...As if he is of them realm and isn't...

"Just breathe.." For it is here, where the fires will refine him. Where the crystal within his chest would continue to burst with light...But she would not 'remove' it per se...

No. It'd serve as a conduit of some sorts. To assist him within this process...For now, she only struggles to release mana rather than letting it flood him recklessly.
(Ashalle)

Change was good.

But sometimes, it was painful. At times like these, especially, when the burn in his chest begins to grow more intense, when the sparkling of two opposites begin to fight against one another, all while they spread out across his body. It's much like a virus, an infection that seeks to take him over- but he resists, keeping it controlled through the magic of spiritmancy and control of this essence.

It hurt. She could feel it in how his breath becomes ragged, how sweat begins to gather around his body and his eyes widen. The grit of his shark teeth was all more evident as the ritual was done, enough to cause a rupture in his flesh like no other. This transformation into something otherworldly.. into half-spirit, it was like no other.

Because this was never done before.

"It hurts.. it hurts..!" Almost instinctively, he tries to jerk away from her hand that assists him, and the same hand that burns him altogether; through willpower and endurance he persists, opting out to stay in this grasp as long as possible.

The breath quickens, so does his heartbeat. One by one, the inches of his body become overcome by this webbing, parts of his body flickering in and out of existence. The azure glow in his eyes grew more intense, and yet this strange essence was sinking in.. only for it to ravage him more.

"Make it stop..!"

It's spoken almost against his true wish. The reaction of his body to try and get rid of pain at any cost. And yet, despite saying that, he remained.. he was far too close to give up, despite the cracks in his willpower.
(Keitaro)

Change is not always good. But it is inevitable. She was once haunted by change. Haunted by the same thing that she once professed to others - perhaps, because of so many hands that were directed her way. Struggle. She had learned of struggling when it came to the amount of people that suddenly flooded Briar Locke. She wasn't used to the masses...To different demands or commands of those that she knew...And even then, what she did not enjoy was leading her own people. And yet...There is a part of her that had craved to lead some sort of rebellion. To spark some sort of fight...Something that might make her stand out more than being 'feared' or 'respected' amongst individuals.

Nevertheless...

She is disciplined to a certain degree. For when he instantly jerks away - there is no pulling back away from his form. No matter what he might do...He would notice how her frame would become more abrasive- the silent, yet criminal endeavor found within the tightening of her grip...As if she could crush bone. As if she could snap him in two..

"Shh.."

A hushed whisper. The contradiction to the yelling that comes with the sweat and the hurt and the pain that breaks through his figure. But despite such a thing, this grasp...This grasp forces him. It holds him still with marble, it clings to him within the worst moments of them all..

"I can't...Not yet. You have to make it, Keitaro.." Because if he doesn't, then he'll die. He'll vanish from her grasp as if he never existed at all...And so, her weight is pressed upon him. Her body now hovering over his,an attempt to render him weak against this transformation.
(Ashalle)

It hurts far too much than what he anticipated. When the webbing of this essence overcomes him entirely, the drakanite is seen struggling at accepting it- the body of spiritmancer heavily empowered by the magics he was wielding to smooth out the transformation, but it was still far too much suffering. From the grit of his teeth, from the constant quickening of his breath and heartbeat..

It turns into a scream.

It's comparable to someone having their bones snapped, their flesh rending in the most horrible, twisted ways, accompanied by a heavy breath that passes between each and every scream; only when it engulfs him fully, the Shenlong falls silent for a moment. It almost becomes alarming.. because there's a dead look in the eye, and he ceases to move entirely.

Did he die?

The flesh she was holding onto becomes less substantial, parts of it becoming transparent time and time again. And yet, strangely enough, the azure light around him seems to stabilize rather than flickering about; it is the moment in which he becomes one with the essence, an experience very close to near-death. If it wasn't for his mastery to arts related to Spiritmancy, perhaps, this would be a failure.. and he would truly pass to the other side.

Only after a moment, he inhales again.

But something changes. The sclera in his eyes turns entirely blue, and green-ish color strands appear amidst his hair; it seems to match the green color that Ashalle has witnessed in Spirit Realms. And yet, the eyes considerably darken, the azure coloration becoming matched with dark tones of the essence that once was harboured by Synmael.

"It hurts..."

Carefully, the process was coming to an end. Right before her eyes, the drakanite was changing- his physical features having those new odd additions, and his eyes staring off somewhere in the distance, his mind entirely elsewhere.

There's no telling just how he feels.
(Keitaro)

It's just like before. She remembers the sounds. The screaming. The pain that would come when she would rake her whip across the backs of her enemies. She is all so uncertain as to where she had suddenly lost that fire. She is all so uncertain as to when she had stopped hearing the apex of their voices as horror rather than dulcet tones. In the end....With her hand pressed harshly upon the crystal. Where transformation and brilliance occurs underneath her lithe frame...Where she forces him to not just submit to her wellbeing...But the power that she dares to attempt to bestow upon him and his flesh...So much so, that she drowns out his screams.

Isn't it good? She had learned that the quiet was something that she liked to. Perhaps the afterglow akin to a cigarrete's dim light. Where life flickers and wanes within the eyes of those that were around...And yet...Even as he fades out of existience. Even when it seems as if all of him isn't there...She can still feel his touch upon her flesh. She can still feel his arms within her palms..

"Does it?" A small smile appears upon her features despite her hold- her gaze flickering across his frame...Noticing all the different colorations as she carefully finishes..

"Good.." There may be no telling how he feels. Through apathy...Or perhaps, just the sense of becoming something-...Someone entirely different. She knew the risk...But she took it anyways.

"I'm almost done...Just a little more." What would stay upon him, unfortunately, would be the crystal embedded within his chest. Now that he was fully synchronized...It would act as the conduit...Something that assists the natural 'flow' of his body. It assists in stabilizing his body...

Until he is capable of doing so within this new form on his own.

"Tell me-...How do you feel? How is it?" He is so different and yet, nearly the same. She...almost isn't be able to recognize him. Almost.
(Ashalle)

So many voices.

To become an embodiment of these essences, to establish this permanent bridge to the spirit realms.. it would make him different no doubt. Even now, when he dearly clings to his sanity and his mind, as well as he clings to his flesh, there's an empty gaze to his eyes that tells of just how much he might've changed with this.

The crystal embedded in his chest, one acting as conduit, assists him in stabilizing his form; the darkening and shifting sclera of his eyes slowly fades, and so do the odd strands of his hair, and the transparent skin.. but there's a tiniest trace of what's been done in those azure eyes of his.

It's a mark, a testament to his changes.

"...I felt like I just died." Finally, some coherent words escape his lips. For a moment, his gaze trails all around the room, looking at the ceiling, the walls, the furniture.. and finally, her. It's all too different, too strange.

"I think it's fine, I--" Hear so many voices. Even now, his eyes steadily close for a moment, and another inhale passes. It is evident he might be needing rest, to give this time, until his newfound ability properly stabilizes and settles in.

The features she saw seem to manifest the most when he taps into this part of himself..

"It's better now."

Inhale. Exhale. Carefully, his hand traces along the place of power, where all of the webbing began to surge from, and he's glad that he didn't die from this attempt. To perish from this would be.. saddening, at the very least.

"Should be fine."

At least, the ritual did not kill him.
(Keitaro)