Arthur stood a short distance from Fedlimid, his voice steady but commanding. "Watch closely. The process isn't pain, it's adaptation. You force your body to remember something older than you are."
With that, Arthur's transformation began. His breathing slowed and deepened, each inhale carrying an undeniable weight, as though he were pulling the very atmosphere into his chest. The air around him grew heavy in response, drawn to him, owned by him.
"Control your breath first." He said, though his words already started to warp. His muscles shifted under his skin, thickening and expanding. White scales rippled across his form like a tide, spreading until his body was encased in a smooth, unyielding armor. The change was seamless, bones groaning as they stretched, tendons bending and hardening to accommodate the weight of his form.
