Raya's chest heaved as she pressed against Eren. Her skin still glowed faintly from the Mark.
"I… I can't control it," she whispered.
Eren's eyes were dark pools of worry.
"Then let it speak to you. Don't fight it. Listen."
The silver veins along her arms pulsed like a heartbeat. Her fingers tingled, and the air around her shimmered. Tiny sparks of light flickered between her hands, floating before her eyes like fireflies.
"It's like it's… alive," Raya breathed.
"It is alive," Eren said softly. "It's calling you toward what you were meant to become."
Raya's gaze widened. The forest around her darkened unnaturally. Shadows lengthened, moving with a life of their own, curling toward her in anticipation.
Then the whisper came—soft, insistent:
Little flame… awaken… show me…
Her knees buckled.
Eren grabbed her shoulders.
"You have to trust yourself. Trust the Mark!"
A flash of light burst from her hands. The shadows recoiled, shrieking in unearthly tones. Birds took flight, screaming. Trees splintered under the energy, but Raya stood, trembling, yet unbroken.
A thought clawed at her mind—terrifying, intoxicating: I could destroy everything.
Eren's voice broke through the rising panic:
"Raya! Control it, don't let it control you!"
Her fingers clenched into fists, and the energy snapped back. The forest fell silent again—but the air remained thick, vibrating with anticipation.
Raya whispered, "I… I'm not human anymore."
Eren shook his head.
"You're still you. And that's what makes you dangerous."