Magic seals crisscrossed the walls and floors, flickering in layered patterns that pulsed like veins beneath skin.

A young boy and girl moved carefully around the formation, recording and inspecting the procedure. Sweat soaked their hair, dark circles carved deep beneath their eyes. Every few moments one of them paused, wiped their face with a trembling hand, then continued without complaint.

Damon had not paid much attention to what Lazarak was doing alongside Lyn and Sithara. Not until now.

Seeing the overwhelming complexity of the magical network, he realized just how far out of his depth he truly was.

Their understanding of magic existed on an entirely different level. Unlike Damon, who learned magic only to kill more efficiently, they used it as a craft, a language, a structure. They knew it for what it was, not just what it could destroy.

At the center of the formation sat a cocoon, warped and layered with glowing seals that shimmered faintly as if breathing.

Lazarak stepped forward. His appearance was that of a handsome ten year old boy, though his disheveled hair and hollow eyes betrayed exhaustion. His dark robes, woven from pure darkness, moved despite the absence of wind.

He stopped in front of the cocoon.

"It took a while," he said quietly. "This is the best we could do. Even with more time, we wouldn't be able to push it further."

He crossed his arms and leaned closer to the cocoon, letting out a tired sigh.

"We used Matia as a blueprint. We also captured a normal fairy to compare the difference between their souls, hoping to recreate the procedure. But we learned too little."

He bit his lip, frustration flickering across his face.

"Every soul is unique. Structurally similar, yes, but worlds apart in execution."

Damon nodded slowly. He did not fully understand, and that was fine.

"So how do we do this," he asked.

Lazarak stepped aside and gestured toward the cocoon.

"Just shove your hand in and unleash all your mana and shadow energy."

Damon frowned slightly. "That's it."

He was also supposed to modify its soul, wasn't he.

"Leave that part to me," Lazarak replied flatly, as if reading his mind. "You're too much of a brute for anything graceful."

Damon sighed and shrugged.

Without hesitation, he placed his palms against the cocoon. His eyes snapped open as he released a colossal surge of mana. Dark streams of shadow energy followed, pouring into the cocoon like ink flooding water.

The seals reacted instantly.

They darkened, turning pitch black as wisps of shadow rose from them. The cocoon began to swell, its surface trembling violently as something inside pushed against its confines, eager to emerge before it was ready.

Lazarak moved quickly, circling to the opposite side of the formation.

"Don't stop," he called out. "Hold it steady."

He knelt and pressed his hand against the seals, muttering an incantation under his breath. Whether it was a spell or something older, Damon did not know. He was too focused.

The cocoon let out a shrill screech.

Damon almost pulled back to cover his ears, but forced himself to endure it, pressing his hands harder against the surface.

Warm liquid ran down his face.

His ears began to bleed. Then his nose. Soon, blood leaked from every opening.

Lazarak fared no better.

Yet neither of them moved.

Minutes dragged on before the resistance suddenly ceased.

Damon was about to relax when he felt it.

A sudden suction force wrapped around his arms.

Something began to drain him.

Violently.

It tore through his mana and shadow energy without restraint. Damon tried to pull away, but his arms would not move.

The cocoon drank him dry.

Shadow energy went first. He did not have much to begin with, and as it vanished his shadow hunger surged violently. The cocoon turned completely black, becoming a solid mass of shadow.

It did not stop.

Damon dropped to his knees as his shadow energy dipped below ten percent. His body warped, transforming into a ravenous entity of pure shadow. Before it could stabilize, his mana began to drain just as mercilessly.

For the first time in a long time, he saw the bottom of his mana reserves.

The cocoon shrank as it consumed everything.

Then his mana hit zero.

Damon collapsed.

With no shadow energy remaining, his body reverted. Pain ripped through him as his health began to drop, system warnings flashing violently.

[Shadow Energy Depleted]

[Shadow Energy Depleted]

He gasped. Hearing that message again sent a chill through him.

Darkness swallowed his vision.

His heart of shadow activated instinctively, absorbing faint traces of shadow energy from the surroundings. He drew a deep, shaking breath and pushed himself upright, staggering.

Now he had a problem.

His heart of shadow could regenerate shadow energy, but mana was different. As an outsider, he could not absorb ambient mana. That restriction was absolute.

The only way to recover was through mana cores.

He turned his head toward the cocoon, which now writhed as the shadows solidified.

"Did it work," Lazarak asked weakly from the floor. Blood streaked his face.

Damon did not answer.

There had been no system notification yet.

Then a soft chime echoed in his mind.

[You have created a shadow.]

Damon's legs nearly gave out.

He felt something tear free from his soul, ripped away and forced into the cocoon to give it life.

A crack echoed through the chamber.

The cocoon shattered, fragments of shadow exploding outward. Damon raised an arm to shield his eyes.

When he looked again, there was nothing left.

Only broken shards of shadow scattered across the floor.

He narrowed his eyes.

There was nothing there.

Crunch. Crunch.

A faint sound broke the silence.

Damon followed it.

Among the fragments, something small moved. He lifted one piece of shadow aside.

Underneath it sat a creature no larger than a cat.

It was round. Featureless. A soft, shifting blob of shadow with no eyes and a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth. It gnawed happily on the cocoon fragments, crunching them with enthusiasm.

Damon stared.

"This," he muttered, "is supposed to be one of the most terrifying things to ever walk our world."

He sighed, already recognizing the type.

A growth variant.

"Well," he said, rubbing his face, "guess I'll just have to terrorize the world with your menacing cuteness."

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