The air was thick with the scent of herbs and blood as you slowly blinked awake. Your limbs felt foreign, the hunger gnawing at you more viciously than any pain you’d ever known. Tamayo sat at the foot of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her eyes fixed on the floor.

"You’re awake," she said softly, but her voice held no relief.

Confusion washed over you—memories of the battle, of your injuries, began to resurface. You reached for your neck, where the fatal wound should have been, but your skin was unscarred.

"You were dying," she whispered, voice trembling with guilt. "I had no choice but to save you... as a demon."