Running over to Randy, Max tries to help his friend, only to be held back by Vespera's firm grip.
"Let me go! Let me help him!" Max yells, struggling against Vespera's restraining hold.
"Relax, Max. You need to chill," Vespera says, her tone shifting to something more serious as she maintains her grip on the struggling boy. "Professor Bain knows what he's doing. Let him take care of it. You can't do much right now - you just need to sit here and watch."
Max steps back, understanding that even though every fiber of his being wants to push through her, he can't overcome her supernatural strength.
Alex stands nervously, his toe tapping a rapid rhythm against the stone floor. 'I thought he said nothing would happen during the ritual. Why is Randy on the ground coughing up black gunk?' The thoughts race through his mind as anxiety builds in his chest.
Professor Bain rushes over to Randy's side, pulling out a vial similar to the one he'd administered before. With practiced movements, he helps Randy drink the mysterious liquid.
"Here, drink this and tell me how you're feeling," Professor Bain instructs, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Explain what happened."
Taking the vial, Randy pops the lid and drinks it down quickly, as if trying to wash away something foul. The liquid spreads through his body like fire through his veins, sending tremors across his frame. Gradually, clarity returns to his eyes, chasing away the fog of confusion.
"Sure, it felt like something was trying to..." Randy pauses, gathering his thoughts. "It was trying to hurt my mind, maybe take it over. Then my heart started pounding - thump, thump, thump - so loud it felt like my eardrums would burst. The headache came next, like an ice pick driving through my brainstem." His voice grows stronger as he continues, "But I also felt such raw power, like I could command death itself."
Randy holds up his arm, examining his veins with a mix of fascination and horror. Where once they carried normal blood, now they pulse with something darker, thicker, more sinister.
"What... what happened to me? What's my bloodline?" His questions tumble out in a rush of anxiety and confusion. "You said nothing bad would happen. Why did I feel such pain, only to feel invincible moments later? What was that?"
Professor Bain's expression turns thoughtful. "From what I can tell, you've awakened a necronic-based bloodline - necromancy, blight, origin, curses, hexes - that sort of magic. That's normal enough." He pauses, brow furrowing. "But the splitting headache you mentioned... when you say the bloodline tried to change your brain..." His voice trails off before continuing with renewed urgency. "Did it feel like your thoughts were becoming someone else's?"
"I guess it felt more like my thought patterns were being rewired," Randy explains, struggling to articulate the alien sensation. "Like if I thought chicken was just fine before, suddenly I'd believe it was the most magnificent thing in existence - but only if it was dead, as if death itself added value." His voice trembles slightly at the implications.
Professor Bain's hand moves in quick, excited motions, invisibly scribbling notes in the air as if he can't contain his academic fervor. "I have to document this," he mutters, his gestures growing more animated with each passing second.
"And now? How do you feel compared to before the ritual?" The professor's voice carries an edge of scholarly anticipation.
"I feel... fine, I think." Randy flexes his fingers experimentally. "Lighter somehow, faster maybe? It's strange - every heartbeat sends this pulse through me. It gives me strength, but it's cold, like ice flowing through my veins."
"That's your bloodline manifesting," Professor Bain explains, his eyes bright with academic excitement. "From what I can tell, your ancestors were part of a lich family. Lich bloodlines fundamentally alter your physical form, preserving it, pushing it toward immortality. That coldness you feel? That's your cells being restructured at the DNA level, slowing their natural deterioration." He catches himself, realizing he's slipping into lecture mode. "But we can explore the specifics later. We need to complete the ritual for your friends first. Take some time to adjust - your OSAI and I can answer any questions afterward. For now, just rest and get accustomed to these new sensations."
Having little choice, Randy stands and rejoins his friends, his movements still carrying traces of uncertainty.
Max meets him halfway, concern etched across his features. "You good, man? What happened back there? You were coughing up this black stuff..." His voice trails off, clearly struggling to process the sight of his friend convulsing on the ground, expelling that mysterious dark substance.
"Thanks for worrying, Max." Randy manages a weak smile. "I'm fine - better than fine, actually. I feel stronger, faster, somehow sharper." He touches his temple lightly. "Had a splitting headache, but it's gone now. Just... give me a minute to adjust to all this."
"Yeah, no problem, man. We'll give you space," Alex offers softly, having followed Max at a more cautious pace, his own anxiety visible in his measured steps.
The three boys, still shaken by the ritual's intensity, settle into the chairs Vespera had thoughtfully provided. Their movements betray their lingering unease, each lost in their own thoughts about what they'd witnessed.
"A necrotic bloodline..." Vespera purrs, her voice carrying a dangerous sort of admiration. "How fascinating. They're quite rare, you know. The few I've encountered were..." Her eyes narrow predatorily, studying Randy with newfound interest, "...quite remarkable individuals."
Randy averts his gaze, breaking the uncomfortable eye contact with Vespera. The weight of her attention feels almost physical, like being sized up by a particularly interested serpent.
"Max, you're up next," Professor Bain announces, drawing everyone's attention.
Not to waste time Max heads his call.
Walking forward, Max follows Professor Bain's lead, his footsteps echoing through the ritual chamber. Unlike Randy's hesitant approach, Max strides toward the circle with confidence, telling himself that if his bookworm friend could handle it, so could he.
Reaching the center of the ritual circle, Max extends his arm without prompting, having observed Randy's process moments before. Professor Bain carefully positions the ornate syringe while explaining the procedure.
"Your OSAI will whisper the necessary incantations in your ear," Professor Bain instructs, drawing the blood with practiced precision. "Keep your palm facing downward over the blood. You may close your eyes, take deep breaths—whatever helps you maintain focus. Do you have any questions?"
"Nope. Let's get this done," Max replies with stone-cold determination, steeling himself for what's to come.
"Best of luck," Professor Bain says, retreating to join the others at the circle's edge. "Whenever you're ready, Max."
Nodding his head Max begins to voice back the words.
"Sai'aen crua sankir thuul, serath ris amon. Thalos vrenai tor myar faeth," Max intones, his voice steady despite his racing heart. As the ancient words leave his lips, a dense resonance builds within his bones, his marrow singing with awakening power.
The blood in the bowl responds, rising like a crimson tide to meet his outstretched hand. Unlike with Randy, where the essence had sought his veins, Max's blood races straight for his bones. It seeps through his skin, diving deep into his skeletal structure, rewriting the very DNA of his marrow and bone.
Agony tears through him as his entire skeletal system begins to transform. Max clenches his teeth against the pain, feeling his bones simultaneously breaking and strengthening with each passing second. Through the excruciating sensation, he perceives his body growing more powerful, his skeleton reinforcing itself from within. Knowing the ritual must be nearing its end, Max steels his resolve, determined to endure whatever comes next.
Max stands heaving, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. His body pulses with newfound power, growing incrementally larger - a change imperceptible to untrained eyes but staggering to the seasoned observers around him.
Finally, his transformation complete, Max collapses to all fours, gasping as if he'd sprinted for miles without rest. Professor Bain hurries to his side, kneeling beside the exhausted student.
"How do you feel, Max?" the professor inquires, studying his student's transformed physique.
"Better," Max manages between breaths, a fierce grin spreading across his face. "Stronger than I've ever been. Strong enough to take down that brat with a single punch." He clenches his fist, eyes blazing with thoughts of revenge as he turns to face Professor Bain. "So, what bloodline did I awaken?"
"First, tell me what you experienced. When the blood entered your body, where exactly did you feel the strengthening pain?" Professor Bain asks, his scholarly interest evident.
"My bones," Max replies, flexing his fingers experimentally. "Every bone in my body - felt like they were shattering and rebuilding themselves in split seconds."
"And your mind? Any changes in thought patterns or other organs?"
"No, just the bones."
Professor Bain's eyes light up with understanding. "Well, Max, you've definitely awakened a bloodline of the blood art variety. Now, you might be wondering - isn't blood magic exclusive to vampires?" He pauses, a hint of ancient knowledge in his voice. "While vampires do possess blood arts, they weren't born with them. Humans created vampires millennia ago. Some human families still retain blood arts, though they're exceedingly rare now. Most were either converted by vampires or..." his voice darkens slightly, "eliminated due to competition."
Rising to his feet, Professor Bain extends a hand to help Max up. "To determine your specific blood art, we'll need to conduct further tests. But for now, we should let Alex complete his ritual. Can you stand? Follow me if you're able."
"Yeah, I'll follow," Max says, cracking his neck as he rises. His transformed physique carries a newfound presence, each movement radiating confidence as if he's discovered the strength of titans within his bones.
As he approaches the group, Randy and Alex rush to meet him, their eyes wide at his altered appearance.
"This isn't fair!" Randy protests, craning his neck to look up at his friend. "You're already taller than me - how are you growing even more?"
Max runs a hand through his short hair, casting an exaggerated look down at his friend. "Just jealous of my good looks too, huh?" he teases, a smirk playing across his face.
"Cut it out, you two," Alex interjects, his concerned gaze fixed on Max's labored breathing. "How are you really feeling? That looked intense - you're still catching your breath."
Max flexes his hand, studying the way his fingers curl and uncurl with newfound power. "My entire body feels rebuilt from the inside out. Every bone feels stronger, like I could punch through concrete without breaking a sweat." He continues examining his transformed physique, noting how his enlarged skeletal structure meshes perfectly with his muscular frame, as if his body had been designed all along to house such power. "It's strange, but... right, somehow."
"Well, I'm glad you're good," Alex says, his voice carrying a mix of relief and apprehension. "I guess it's my turn now. Both of your powers seem incredible - Max growing taller, Randy getting those necromancer abilities. Hope I get something worthwhile too."
"Oh yeah," Max interjects, enthusiasm coloring his voice. "Professor Bain mentioned mine was some kind of blood art, similar to what vampires have. He'll explain more later, like he did with Randy." He gives Alex a playful shove toward the ritual circle. "Go on, get your power-up. Show us what you're made of."
Approaching Professor Bain, Alex takes several steadying breaths, his internal mantra a shield against rising anxiety. 'You'll be fine, Alex. Just a simple ritual. If Randy and Max managed it, so can you. Just breathe.'
Steeling his nerves, Alex steps toward the ancient bowl at the circle's center, where Professor Bain awaits with practiced patience.
"Sir Alex," the professor greets him warmly, gesturing to a specific spot. "Please extend your arm. I'll need to draw exactly one hundred milliliters of blood. Your OSAI will guide you through the incantation." His voice takes on a reassuring tone as he continues, "Don't overthink the pronunciation - these words are unique to each individual, functioning more like a code that resonates with your very essence. Your body will intuitively guide you to the correct articulation. Trust in that connection."
"Understand that pain is natural during this process," Professor Bain explains, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "Your heart, organs, bones, and mind may all undergo transformation. But like your friends before you, you should emerge stronger." He pauses, offering a reassuring smile. "Best of luck, Sir Alex."
After drawing Alex's blood and carefully transferring it to the ritual bowl, Professor Bain retreats to join the observers, his scholarly eyes keen to document this final awakening.
Alex gazes into the crimson pool below him, catching his reflection in its surface. Though barely a day has passed since their arrival in this realm, he notices the marked improvement in his complexion - the haunted pallor of yesterday replaced by healthier vigor. The sight strengthens his resolve; to return home, he must first embrace this challenge. Steeling himself, he extends his hand over the bowl, palm downward, as ancient words whisper through his consciousness.
"Alexai'vir thren'kaal, sai'theos vryna voidus, haelar thuul an'theris na'xar," he intones, each syllable resonating with otherworldly power.
As the ancient words leave Alex's lips, a profound resonance courses through his entire being. The blood reacts with frightening speed, latching onto his arm and seeping into his flesh faster than it had with either Randy or Max. Unlike his friends' transformations, the essence shoots straight to his brain, wrapping around it in crimson tendrils before sprouting countless blood-forged spikes that pierce every neural fold.
Excruciating pain explodes behind his eyes. Alex tries to scream, to move, to give any indication of his agony, but his body betrays him. The transformation has severed the connection between mind and muscle, leaving him frozen like a marble statue. Consciousness trapped within an unresponsive shell, he can only watch helplessly as the ritual reshapes his very essence, unable to influence or escape the metamorphosis taking hold.
"Headmaster Merlin!" Max's voice cracks with panic as he watches his friend turn rigid, as if Alex's soul has been wrenched from his body. "This isn't normal - even Randy's transformation wasn't like this. What's happening to him?"
Merlin's response cuts through the chamber like a blade of ice, his usually gentle demeanor replaced by something ancient and terrible. "Be still, boy." The command carries centuries of authority. "You witness something of grave importance. Keep your silence and watch - unless you wish your outburst to draw our attention from your friend when he needs it most."
Max and Randy watch helplessly as their friend endures his transformation, their hearts heavy with mounting dread. Max's fists clench until his knuckles whiten, the new power coursing through his enhanced body a cruel reminder of his current uselessness. Even Randy, fresh from his own awakening, can only stand witness as Alex's ordeal unfolds.
The initial neural transformation proves merely a prelude. After reshaping his brain, the blood's influence cascades through Alex's nervous system, altering every pathway save one critical exception: his optical nerves. These it strengthens beyond human limitations, evolving until Alex no longer merely sees but perceives the very fabric of reality. Layer upon layer of spatial folds reveal themselves to his transformed vision, exposing the intricate scaffolding that holds their world together.
His once-blue eyes shift to a haunting shade of purple, his pupils transforming into a mesmerizing array of triangles that rotate in perfect synchronization. As the last drops of blood complete their work, Alex's consciousness flees his body, leaving him sprawled upon the ritual floor.
Yet even in unconsciousness, Alex's mind remains active, transported to a realm starless - a void untouched by stars. Here, ethereal purple light dances around him like aurora borealis, its radiance seeping into his skin with the gentle warmth of summer sunshine, marking him as something more than human.
Floating in the endless void, Alex feels an inexplicable sense of belonging, as if he's finally returned home after a long absence. The infinite darkness stretches before him, empty and absolute, until reality itself folds open like a cosmic eye. From its depths emerges not a mere beam of light, but a rotating triangular sigil that seems to study him with ancient intelligence. The borders of space ripple and twist, suddenly launching Alex through its dimensional folds at impossible speeds.
The purple aura surrounding him becomes incorporeal as he hurtles through space-time. When the cosmic journey ends, he finds himself before a sight that defies mortal comprehension - a being of such enormous scale that it dwarfs the moon itself. Its form, composed of void-stuff and ethereal energy, radiates otherworldly power. Knowledge floods Alex's consciousness, information burning itself into his very DNA. He knows, with bone-deep certainty, that he stands before a Void Being. The entity's presence fills every molecule of space around him, and when it speaks, it utters a single word that reverberates through Alex's soul: "Child."
The word proves too much for his mortal mind to bear. Even in this mental landscape - whether constructed by his transforming consciousness or revealed by his awakening power - Alex feels himself slipping away into oblivion.
In the physical world, his body begins to deteriorate, blood seeping from every pore as his flesh withers like a desiccated fruit. Professor Bain rushes forward, his hands already weaving healing magic as he fights to stabilize Alex's failing form.
"Merlin, I need your help - quickly! We require your Tier 7 magic!" Professor Bain's typically composed demeanor shatters at the sight of his future student's deteriorating condition.
Merlin materializes beside Professor Bain with supernatural speed, his ancient fingers already weaving complex glyphs in the air. Like a cosmic programmer writing reality's code, he constructs an intricate magical matrix that transcends mere two-dimensional space. The spells stack upon each other like crystalline architecture, building a towering palace of magical energy that pierces the heavens. Its golden radiance bathes the chamber in divine light, each glyph pulsing with raw power.
When Merlin speaks, his words carry such weight that reality itself trembles in response: "Elaris na'vi, luma'thel aen solis, renaith vehl'an theris."
From the ethereal palace descends a cascade of light, like angels answering their creator's call. The divine radiance envelops Alex's withered form, infusing him with renewed vitality. His desiccated skin begins to fill out, color returning to his flesh as life force flows back into his body. The visible improvement eases some of the terror gripping Randy and Max's hearts.
While Merlin's restorative magic works its miracle, Professor Bain weaves his own intricate spells, focusing on strengthening the connection between Alex's newly awakened bloodline and his physical form. His magic seeks to bridge the dangerous disconnect between body and soul that had nearly claimed the young man's life.
Together, the two mages pour their considerable power into saving Alex, their combined magical prowess illuminating the chamber like a second sun.
Gradually, Alex's body's demand for life force diminishes. Merlin adjusts his spell with surgical precision, calibrating the flow of energy until it matches Alex's needs perfectly. Only when Alex's condition stabilizes does Merlin finally release his magic, leaving Professor Bain to monitor their young charge.
Like a master technician at a complex control station, Professor Bain extends his arms, conjuring an array of glyphic runes and holographic displays before him. Each magical screen pulses with vital information about Alex's condition as the professor desperately searches for answers to this near-catastrophic awakening.
Sweat beads on Professor Bain's furrowed brow as he sifts through decades of accumulated knowledge, his fingers dancing through the ethereal displays with increasing urgency. His initial findings drive him to search deeper, hoping against hope to discover an alternative explanation for what he's witnessing.
"It can't be," Professor Bain breathes, his voice barely a whisper. Yet in the chamber's deathly silence, these words ring with terrible clarity, their weight settling over the room like a funeral shroud.