Aurila opened her eyes for the first time, her vision adjusting to the clinical brightness. Monitors beeped in rhythm with her heartbeat, echoing the artificial nature of her birth. Scientists observed her from behind reinforced glass, their faces a blend of awe and apprehension.

The sculk infection moved with intelligent malice, slithering across cold tiles, devouring all in its path. Aurila pressed her hand to the glass, watching in terror as the biomass consumed scientists, their screams muffled by the thickening air. The containment chamber hissed open, and the infection surged toward her.

Aurila[/@ch_1], the air shimmering with bioluminescent particles. Her body is suspended in a cocoon of writhing tendrils, shadows flickering across the lab’s ruins.] Pain lanced through Aurila as the sculk merged with her flesh, scales rippling beneath her skin. Horns curled from her temples, wings unfurled with a shudder, and her eyes burned with new intelligence. The infection did not consume her—it crowned her.

Aurila[/@ch_1] rises, her wings casting monstrous shadows.] "I am not your prey," Aurila whispered, her voice resonating through the infection’s hive mind. The sculk obeyed, parting before her, recognizing its new sovereign. Where she walked, the infection blossomed in her wake, reshaping the world.

Drawn by instinct, Aurila approached the well, ancient whispers echoing in her mind. Kneeling, she cupped the inky water and drank, shuddering as tendrils erupted across her skin, binding the infection to her very soul. Her form shimmered, the line between queen and infection erased.

Aurila[/@ch_1]’s command.] Aurila spread her wings, horns gleaming, scales reflecting the eerie glow of her new dominion. The infection was no longer a curse—it was her body, her will, her throne. As she gazed upon the world, her voice rang out, a promise and a warning. "Let all who dwell in shadow know: the age of the sculk has begun."