The witch's chant grew louder, more resonant, as the ancient symbols and cryptic texts began to inscribe themselves upon Joo-Hee's skin. The glowing runes seeped into her body like liquid light, etching themselves into her flesh with an unnatural precision.
The once serene space around them began to distort as the words of the spell took hold, warping the air like a thunderstorm before a deluge.
Joo-Hee's body trembled, her every muscle tight with the strain of the ethereal energy coursing through her. Yet, despite the agony, her eyes remained shut, her mind unwilling or unable to awaken.
The witch paused, watching with cold amusement as the symbols on Joo-Hee's skin began to take shape, the markings now glowing faintly.
"If that jerk is so adamant about protecting you," the witch murmured, her voice almost soothing in its chilling calmness, "... then, I suppose I can trust his word."
With a sharp, deliberate motion, the witch extended her hand. The space in front of her seemed to ripple and tear open, a jagged tear forming in the air.
Through the hole, a black needle appeared—a delicate, intricately designed artifact that shimmered with an aura of ancient, forbidden power.
"You better grateful for this, little boy," she whispered, her voice silky yet dripping with cruelty.
With a swift motion, the witch held the needle above Joo-Hee's forehead. Without hesitation, she pressed it against her skin, piercing her brow with an unnerving ease.
A cold, numbing sensation spread from the point of contact, as if the needle was drawing out Joo-Hee's very soul.
A dark, inky blackness unfurled beneath the needle's touch, spreading like veins of energy across Joo-Hee's skin.
The witch closed her eyes, guiding the lines as they connected the ancient symbols, each beginning to glow with an ominous intensity, merging into the growing web of blackened markings.
Suddenly, her eyes shot open, wide with revelation, a dark gleam flashing in them.
"Alphaterium?! That guy isn't even thinking straight anymore," she shouted.
Her lips parted in a grin, but it wasn't one of kindness or triumph—it was pure confusion and unrestrained desire.
"To think he would give you this sought-after symbiote—a growth type, at that—just to speed up your growth. How interesting..."
She clenched her fist around the needle, her expression manic as she stared at Joo-Hee's form. "If he dares to give you something so rare, then this needle is not enough."
From the shadows of that stored space, she drew out another item again.
A deformed fruit—its surface was a strange, blue metallic color, containing countless small ancient cryptic symbols inside.
The witch's fingers brushed over the fruit's smooth, hard surface, her lips curling into a slight frown of hesitation.
"I almost died fighting that behemoth," she murmured, her voice laced with a bitterness that seemed to infect the air around them. "... just to obtain its essence and refine this sagefruit for my future descendant. And to think, I would use this on his disciple…"
She exhaled sharply, frustration heavy in her breath. "But if I'm to escape this endless loop with this boy's help, then... this much is nothing."
Her eyes narrowed as she held the fruit in her palm, a mixture of envy and determination flickering in her gaze as she looked down at Joo-Hee.
"Where did that leaf even find this Alphaterium? Even most of the Celestials don't possess one..."
With a final, resigned shake of her head, the witch took the fruit and held it above Joo-Hee's unconscious form.
Her mouth parted, and ancient words spilled from her lips—twisted, constricting, and commanding. The language was beyond mortal comprehension, meant for no human to hear, let alone understand.
Yet, as if bound by the very essence of her being, Joo-Hee's body responded instantly, moving under the witch's will as though controlled by an unseen force.
"Eat," the witch commanded, her voice thick with an authority that transcended reality.
Against its will, Joo-Hee's mouth opened, her lips quivering as if they were no longer her own. Her arms trembled, but her fingers—though unbidden—gripped the fruit, bringing it to her mouth.
The fruit, despite its hard, metallic appearance, was strangely soft, almost fragile. The moment it touched her tongue, her collapsed body went rigid.
Joo-Hee's muscles convulsed as the fruit's power began to take hold. Her entire form writhed, as if some kind of force was scrambling her insides.
"Don't you dare waste even a drop of that fruit," the witch murmured, watching Joo-Hee's body shudder in agony. Her eyes were full of cruel amusement. "... and become strong to help me escape this Worldview."
The fruit, potent and full of raw, unfiltered power, began its work. The pain was unbearable, searing her from the inside out. Her body spasmed, each wave of convulsion more intense than the last. But still, despite the agony, she couldn't wake.
It was a slow process, but the fruit's power was undeniable. Joo-Hee's skin began to glow with a faint blue hue as the energy from the fruit merged with the ancient symbols etched across her body.
The markings began to shift, morphing as if they were alive, as if they were part of a larger, more complex design.
The witch's smile grew darker, more twisted. She knew what was coming. She could feel the energy in the air, thick with the promise of change. "Let it flow… let the evolution of the Alphaterium begin."
Joo-Hee's form jerked violently, her limbs twitching as the fruit's energy spread deeper into her being. And as the witch stood over her, watching the metamorphosis unfold with a sense of triumph, she couldn't help but whisper one final, malicious thought:
"This will be the rebirth of your System, little sage."