The Entity Chosen.

Chapter 18

In the depths of the fog, where silence reigned and shadows writhed like living things, Liriyal's body stood motionless, her blood-red eyes fixed on a distant point, unseeing, empty. But within her mind, the Entity's presence pulsed, expanding, pressing deeper and deeper until there was no boundary left between them, no distinction between her thoughts and its commands. The last slivers of her consciousness faded into darkness, merging, melting into the all-encompassing power that now controlled her entirely.

The Entity, sensing its complete hold, surged forward, filling every corner of her mind, her flesh bending to its will. It took a deep, luxuriant breath, savoring the sensation of physicality, of occupying a human form for the first time, reveling in the blend of flesh and darkness. It felt the rhythm of her heartbeat, the pulsing of her blood, and it wove itself into each fiber, binding every muscle, every nerve to its essence. The transformation was thorough, invasive, remaking her body from the inside out.

A dark, radiant energy crackled through her form, her skin pulsing as shadows wound around her. Her once raven-black hair shifted, streaks of crimson bleeding into the strands, each one a vivid reminder of the Entity's corruption seeping through her being. The streaks glowed faintly in the dim light, like embers in the depths of a dying fire, a symbol of the dark power that now thrummed beneath her skin.

As it adjusted to the sensation of her body, the Entity flexed her fingers, relishing the strength, the control, savoring the way her muscles responded effortlessly to its commands. Every movement was graceful, fluid, yet exuded a deadly elegance, as though her very form had been re-forged to serve as an instrument of malice.

"Ah... so fragile, yet so... adaptable," the Entity murmured through her lips, its voice a low, echoing purr that reverberated through the fog. It twisted her mouth into a satisfied smirk, feeling the fullness of her expression, the ability to speak, to shape words in the human tongue. "How simple it is to make this flesh my own."

A dark energy gathered around her back, swirling, coalescing, until two shadowy forms emerged, stretching out like the wings of some fallen angel. The wings were made of pure darkness, each feather flickering, shifting like smoke, but edged with a faint crimson glow, giving them an eerie, ethereal presence. They unfurled slowly, each movement precise, adjusting to their new form as they extended to their full span, casting a dark shadow across the fog-drenched ground. The wings pulsed with the same inky energy that coursed through her, their edges sharp, feathered yet dark and unnatural, as though crafted from the very fabric of nightmares.

The Entity took another deep breath, savoring the sensation of air filling its vessel's lungs, of power and control settling into place, its influence now inseparable from the flesh it had claimed. It lifted her arms, testing the limits of its new wings, feeling the weight, the strength in every movement.

"This body... this flesh... it yields to me completely," it murmured, rolling her shoulders, the wings stretching, folding, adjusting with a quiet grace. "Perfect. A fitting form for my purpose."

It raised one hand, gazing at her fingers as dark tendrils of energy twisted around them, a gleam of crimson flickering along the edges of her nails, which had lengthened into claw-like points. The Entity's satisfaction radiated through her form, each transformation a symbol of the power it now wielded over the physical, of the completeness of its merging with this vessel.

"They will not recognize their friend," it whispered, its voice an amused hiss, a dark echo of Liriyal's voice laced with something far more ancient, far more sinister. "They will tremble, they will break, and I will savor every moment."