But Keres had already turned away, attention snapping back to the tank. Whatever Ethan was murmuring, Keres chalked it up to the man cursing under his breath—he was already used to it.

Inside the tank, something changed.

The wings twitched again—but this time it wasn’t a spasm-like movement.

The movement was deliberate, controlled, the massive folds loosening and pulling back from the body they cocooned.

Through the bright green liquid, the outline of ’Lilianna’’s form became clearer. Her shoulders squared. Her spine straightened, centimeter by centimeter, like a creature waking up from a very long hibernation.

"Oi." Keres was on his feet in an instant, his voice sharp. "Do your job properly. That brat, Lilianna, is waking up."

Ethan was already moving, crossing to the secondary holographic display beside the tank with three long strides.

His fingers flew across the controls, pulling up biometric feeds—brain wave activity spiking, pheromone production fluctuating wildly, autonomic responses escalating across the displays.

"Not for long," Ethan said, but his eyes didn’t leave the monitors.

Keres stood at the edge of the tank, arms crossed, watching the wings retract further. The bright green liquid swirled where they had disturbed it.

"The gathering is near," Keres said, the playful cruelty had drained from his voice. Colder. "We can’t make a mistake. You know that, right?"

"Stop being such a nag." Ethan’s response was automatic: "This is why no one wanted to work with you."

"Like I wanted to work with you, either?"

For a moment, the two of them just glared at each other; each was convinced that they had drawn the shorter straw.

Keres turned away first, but not before muttering, almost too quiet to hear: "If not for the newborn fetus..."

But Ethan heard it anyway.

"For a parasite," Ethan said, not looking back at him, "you sound like a lich."

Keres’s lips curled—amused, self-aware, and completely unrepentant. "We’re not that different, you and I. We’re rolling around in the same environment, after all."

Ethan’s hand slammed flat on the panel.

"Then how about we just make her think she’s in control?" His voice was tight in frustration. "Hmm? Would that solve your problems?"

Keres tilted Helena’s head, "Like hypnosis?"

"Not just like hypnosis. It is hypnosis."

Ethan turned from the holographic displays, and the look on his face was edged with excitement.

"But not a simple one."

Keres squinted, Helena’s brow furrowed. "Is it hypnosis or not? Just be straight."

Ethan pressed his lips together so hard they turned white. He didn’t like talking with a stupid species.

"Salia," he said, nodding toward the tank, "would act as a voice in Lilianna’s head. Subtle. Suggestive. Not commanding—guiding. Like an inner voice, she doesn’t question."

Then he turned to Keres. "And you would play the concerned older sister. Tell her you brought her here to get cured. Handle her from there."

A long beat of silence to consider.

Then Keres scratched the back of Helena’s head and sighed.

"Such a hassle." He complained but was still resigned to his fate. "But as long as she’s ready in time—fine. I’ll do it."

Ethan’s smirk returned, thin and bloodless. "It’ll be a lot easier than taking over her body."

"Ask Salia if she’s down for it."

They both turned to the tank.

Inside, the wings had fully retracted. The figure floated in the amber solution with her eyes closed, her body still, her expression unreadable behind the distortion of the chemical liquid.

Then, ’Lilianna’ opened her eyes.

It was bloody red in vertical slits. It contracted and dilated independently, scanning the two figures young in the tank coldly.

The thing in Lilianna’s body right now was—Salia.

The voice came through the tank’s communication array, stripped of warmth, [As long as it doesn’t hinder the plan.]

Keres clapped Helena’s hands together once, sharply, "You heard her. Get going."

Ethan shot Keres a look, "Don’t order me around like a servant."

Then, he turned to the tank, adjusting controls as he spoke. His tone changed to something that almost resembled professional courtesy.

"Salia. You’ll feel some pain during the transition. But it’s not a major restructuring, so it should be manageable."

The red eyes blinked once.

Salia nodded, then her eyes closed.

Ethan’s fingers danced across the panels and displays. Chemical concentrations moved around within the tank. The colors of the liquid changed every second.

Sometimes, it was lightening, sometimes darkening. It was interchangeable as Ethan worked his way around the chemicals.

The biometric readouts fluctuated wildly before steadying into a new rhythm, slower, deeper, like a heartbeat adjusting to a different body.

The wings retracted further—not just folding but receding, pulling into the skin of Lilianna’s back as if they had never existed.

When the chemical solution cleared, the sickly bright green faded to a pale, medicinal blue.

And then—

When her eyes opened again.

It was neither bloody red nor in slits anymore.

It was the warm, honey colored eyes of Lilianna. She blinked rapidly against the sting of the chemical solution.

Her pupils were round and dilated with the disorientation of someone waking from a dream they couldn’t quite remember.

Floating in the blue liquid, Lilianna’s body jerked. Her hands quickly found the glass wall of the tank, palms flat, fingers splayed. She kept on slapping the glass in panic. Her mouth opened, and though no sound carried through the liquid.

But from the shape of her mouth, it was obvious:

Where—

Then, she finally saw them.

Keres had moved fast. Standing directly in front of the tank, hands pressed against the glass. Her face contorted into an expression of anguished relief that would have earned a standing ovation at the Imperial Theatre.

Her bloody red eyes were also gone. In their place: Helena’s familiar gray-green irises, brimming with tears that caught the lab light dramatically.

"You’re alive!"

Keres cried with Helena’s voice with the right amount of desperate joy. The tears spilled freely, tracking down cheeks that wore concern.

"Oh, thank god—you’re alive!"

Behind Keres, Ethan stood with a full white human mask on, arms crossed.