The ritual continued long after the first violent surge of change had passed.
Fire Laws remained dominant beneath the crimson dome, while the blood mist slowly thinned. Most of the demons were deep in their own struggles, locked in meditation or silent endurance. For North, however, the transformation was already nearing its end.
Two hours passed.
The pressure around her body gradually eased. The wind that had once coiled tightly around her frame faded into stillness, and her breathing slowed. At last, her eyes opened.
For a brief moment, she simply sat there, adjusting to the new weight of her body.
Then she smiled. That was enough for me. Space folded, and I pulled her directly into the pocket space.
The stadium vanished around her, replaced by the quiet void and the floating world core. North blinked once, then steadied herself almost instantly. Her posture was perfect, as if the space itself had aligned to her presence.
The next second, she reached out and pinched my arm.
