Months pass.
At first, the changes are subtle. Easy to miss if you don't know what to look for. Fatigue fades faster. Wounds knit a little too quickly. My heartbeat grows steadier, stronger—less human, more… deliberate.
Then the obvious change comes.
My blood is no longer red.
Under the microscope, it gleams blue—deep, luminous, unmistakably Titan-derived. I run test after test, recalibrating equipment, checking for contamination or error. There is none. The results are consistent.
My blood carries Titan properties.
Sixty‑eight percent compatibility.
Sixty‑eight percent as effective as pure Titan blood.
That number sticks with me. Anything above fifty percent is extraordinary. Above sixty is unheard of. I'm no Titan—but I'm no longer just human either.
Further research confirms it: the integration is ongoing. Slow. Stable. My cells are adapting rather than rejecting the change. My body isn't fighting the Titan blood—it's learning from it.
Physically, I'm stronger. Not monstrously so, not yet—but noticeably. Lifting equipment feels easier. My reflexes sharpen. My endurance increases. Even my posture changes, as though my body remembers something ancient and powerful and is quietly adjusting itself to match.
And the glyphs…
The glyphs respond instantly now.
I barely need to focus. A traced symbol hums with energy, stronger and brighter than before. When I cast a light glyph, the glow floods the room instead of hovering politely. Plant glyphs burst into life with wild enthusiasm. Fire glyphs burn hotter, cleaner, more controlled.
The Titan blood doesn't just power the glyphs—it understands them.
They feel… familiar.
When I cast magic, there's no resistance. No delay. The magic flows through me as naturally as breath, drawn directly from my heart, carried by blue veins that pulse faintly when I push myself too far.
I am becoming something new.
Not a witch.Not a Titan.Not human.
Something between.
And for the first time since my rebirth, I feel it clearly: the rules that bind others do not bind me anymore. Glyphs don't need a Titan corpse. Magic doesn't need a realm. Power doesn't need permission.
I look at my hands, faintly glowing under the lab lights, and I smile.
Sixty‑eight percent.
And still climbing.