In the darkest hour before dawn, the air in the underground laboratory at No. 12 Golden Oak Street was heavy.
Ian sat cross-legged in the center of the Star Guidance Array, fine beads of sweat trickling down his temples.
His Spiritual Power extended from between his brows like millions of fine silver threads, seeping into the violently trembling mass of shadow before him.
Gaga's body was losing control.
One moment, it would expand to a three-meter wingspan, its dark silver feathers flaring out like blades.
The next, it would shrink to the size of a goose egg, rolling back and forth on the stone slab.
Each shift in form was accompanied by the piercing sound of space tearing apart.
"Gaga, hold on."
Ian's voice was low, piercing through the chaotic energy fluctuations.
A halo of Witchcraft bloomed at his fingertips as he prepared [Original Blood Origin Tracing].
Through their Soul Link, Gaga's consciousness was like a small boat in a storm, flickering in and out of existence.
