I floated in endless darkness, unable to form coherent thoughts. My consciousness drifted aimlessly, fragments of memory and sensation slipping through my grasp like smoke.

Slowly, pieces began clicking into place. The sewers. The fight. Isabella's sacrifice. The blood blade through my chest.

Musical laughter cut through the void. A figure stepped into view - myself. Or rather, someone who looked exactly like me, down to the curve of her horns and the fall of her white hair.

"Well, that could have gone better." Her lips curved into an amused smile. "Though I must say, the berserker rage was quite impressive. Very demonic of us."

I tried to speak, to ask who she was, but no sound emerged. How could I speak without a body? Was this the real Lily? The original consciousness finally revealing itself?

Her laughter rang out again. "Oh, you're adorable when you're confused. But no, you're quite wrong. I'm as much real Lily as you are."

"What do you mean?" I thought, and somehow knew she could hear me.

She walked in a circle around my formless consciousness, her movements fluid and predatory. "I'm the voice that whispers when you feed. The urge that drives you to hunt. The part of you that revels in our succubus nature while you still cling to human morality." Her smile widened. "And now that we're dead, we finally have time for a proper chat."

Understanding dawned. "You're my subconscious."

"Give the lady a prize!" She clapped her hands together. "Though I prefer to think of myself as your true self. The part of you that knows exactly what we are, even if you're not ready to admit it yet."

"Are we truly dead?" I asked my other self, watching her pace around my formless consciousness. The darkness stretched endlessly around us, yet somehow I could see her perfectly - every strand of silver-white hair, every subtle expression.

She paused mid-step, tapping a finger against her chin. "I know exactly as much as you do, which isn't saying much." Her crimson eyes sparkled with amusement. "Though I must say, it's delightfully novel having my own voice. Usually I'm just..." She waved her hand vaguely. "Part of you. A whisper. An urge. A stray thought you try to ignore."

"You seem to be enjoying this separation," I observed.

"Of course I am!" She twirled, her movements graceful and sensual even in this void. "Do you know how frustrating it is, being the part of you that understands exactly what we need, while you constantly second-guess and resist?" She stopped, fixing me with an intense stare. "Though I suppose I should thank Cain's blade for this little chat. Nothing like death to force some self-reflection, wouldn't you say?"

I would have frowned if I had a face. "You're rather cavalier about our death."

"Well, it's not like brooding will change anything." She shrugged, resuming her pacing. "Besides, isn't it interesting how even in death, we maintain our sense of self?"

"You're right, that is fascinating," I replied to my other self. "Perhaps we're not actually dead?"

She beamed, her crimson eyes lighting up. "Now that's the spirit! For all we know, we could be on our way back to hell right now." Her smile turned sly. "And who knows - maybe we were the real Lily all along."

"That's not possible," I protested. "I was Liam, not some demon princess."

She threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the void. "Oh darling, why couldn't you be both? Liam and Lily?"

"How would that even be possible?" I asked, perplexed by her suggestion.

"I honestly don't know," she admitted, twirling a strand of silver-white hair around her finger. "Still, wouldn't it be fun if it was true?"

"You certainly have a different idea of fun from me."

Another musical laugh filled the darkness. "Well, much of my fun is tied to the nature of the body we're in." She gestured at herself. "Besides, it would also mean all these relationships we've built - with Mother, Father, Isabella, Aria - weren't built on lies."

"I'll give you that one," I conceded. "We should probably prepare ourselves though. If we're going to reform, it's supposed to be really painful."

Just as I said it, a strange tug pulled at the edges of my consciousness. Not painful, more like someone gently but insistently trying to get my attention.

My other self stopped her pacing, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Ah, I believe that's our cue. It's been fun being my own person, even for a little while." She stretched luxuriously. "Though I must admit, not having to think about stuff has its own perks too."

I laughed, the sound strange in this formless void. "Try to be more considerate with the urges, will you?"

"No promises," she winked, "but I'll try."

The gentle tug transformed into a violent yank. The void disappeared and sensation flooded back - but not in any way I could have prepared for. I felt my nerves forming, raw endings connecting to tissue that didn't yet exist. The pain was immediate and overwhelming. It was like being flayed alive in reverse, each layer of muscle and skin materializing to connect with already-sensitive nerve endings.

My eyes formed first, suspended in empty air, unable to move or close. All I could see was the exit of the transport gate we'd used to enter Earth. The pain was so absolute, so all-encompassing, that coherent thought became impossible. I couldn't even scream - my lungs hadn't formed yet.

What felt like an eternity of torture compressed into mere seconds, yet every microsecond branded itself into my consciousness with perfect clarity. The feeling of organs taking shape, bones crystallizing from nothing, muscles weaving themselves into existence - it was beyond grotesque, beyond anything a mortal mind could comprehend.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I gasped, collapsing onto my hands and knees. My entire body trembled, aftershocks of pain still ricocheting through my nervous system. The stone floor beneath my palms felt impossibly real, each microscopic imperfection registering with crystal clarity against my newly-formed skin.

Bile rose in my throat. I retched, but nothing came up - my stomach was empty, brand new. The mere act of breathing felt like sandpaper against my raw throat.

Six seconds. It had only been six seconds of actual reformation, but those seconds contained more agony than all my previous experiences combined. The time I broke my arm as a child, the car accident in college, even the hunger pains when I first awakened in this body - they all paled in comparison to what I'd just endured.

My fingers curled against the stone, seeking purchase, trying to ground myself in reality. Every movement sent new waves of phantom pain cascading through my body. Though the actual reformation was complete, my mind couldn't quite accept that the torture was over.

Ten seconds had passed since I materialized, but it felt like I'd spent centuries being unmade and remade. The memory of each excruciating detail remained perfectly preserved - nerves threading through muscle, organs blooming into existence, bones crystallizing from nothing. The precision of my recall was almost worse than the experience itself.

I wouldn't wish this on anyone. Not Valentina, not even Cain. The thought of experiencing this again made my stomach clench. How did other demons endure this? How did they maintain their sanity after feeling themselves being rebuilt atom by atom?

A hysterical laugh bubbled up from my chest. I was alive. Somehow, impossibly, I was still breathing.

I sensed someone approaching but couldn't bring myself to look up. My limbs still shook from the reformation, each breath a reminder of how recently my lungs had knit themselves back together.

"First time?" Isabella's voice was gentler than I'd ever heard it.

I managed a weak nod, not trusting my voice yet. The stone floor beneath my palms felt too real, too present. Every sensation remained heightened, my nerves still raw from being freshly formed.

"Try not to think about it. It helps." Isabella paused. "Aria's waiting for us."

"How..." My voice cracked. I swallowed hard and tried again. "How do you get used to it?"

"You don't." Isabella's response was matter-of-fact, but not unkind. "But it's still better than dying."

I pushed myself up to sitting, though my arms trembled with the effort. The memory of reformation was still too fresh, too vivid. Every excruciating detail remained perfectly preserved in my mind. "I don't want to experience that again."

"None of us do." Isabella's words carried the weight of personal experience.

I stared at my trembling hands, the weight of what had just happened crashing over me. Isabella had known - she'd known exactly what reformation would feel like. Yet she'd still chosen to sacrifice herself to help me fight Cain.

The memory of her final moments flashed through my mind - the determined set of her jaw as she cast that final spell, knowing full well the price she'd pay. She could have retreated, could have left me to face Cain alone. Instead, she'd chosen excruciating pain for a chance to help me.

And Aria... Even as she died, she'd given me that characteristic smile. No blame in her eyes, just acceptance and what looked almost like an apology for leaving me to fight alone.

My chest tightened. These weren't just academy friends anymore. They'd willingly endured unimaginable agony for my sake. The depth of their loyalty struck me with sudden clarity - this was true friendship, tested in fire and pain.

Would I do the same for them? The question rose unbidden in my mind. Now that I knew exactly what reformation felt like, would I willingly subject myself to that torture for their sake?

I hesitated for a moment, the phantom pain still echoing through my newly-formed body. But the answer came with surprising certainty - yes. Even knowing the excruciating price, I would make the same choice they had.

The realization steadied me. I pushed myself up straighter, my limbs finally starting to feel more solid, more real.

"Let's go," I told Isabella, my voice stronger now.

The stone streets of Igneus felt different under my feet now. Each step was a reminder that these legs had been completely reconstructed mere minutes ago. Isabella walked beside me, her usual grace tempered by what we'd both endured.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice still rougher than usual.

"Brimstone Springs," Isabella replied. "Aria's securing us a private section. There's nothing better for taking your mind off reformation than a proper demonic bathhouse."

We rounded a corner, and I caught my breath. The bathhouse rose before us, a structure of black marble and crimson crystal that somehow managed to look both imposing and inviting. Steam rose from various vents, carrying the scent of mineral-rich water and exotic oils.

The entrance hall took my breath away. Polished obsidian floors reflected the light from floating crystal chandeliers, while intricate mosaics depicted scenes of demonic revelry along the walls. The air was thick with perfumed steam, and somewhere distant I could hear the gentle sound of flowing water.

"Lily! Isabella!" Aria's voice cut through my amazement. She stood at the reception desk, waving enthusiastically as if we hadn't all just died horrifically an hour ago. Her eyes sparkled with their usual mischief, and her smile was as bright as ever. "I got us the Infernal Suite! It has the best mineral pools, and they even have those massage oils you like, Isabella!"

Looking at her now, you'd never guess she'd been torn apart by Cain's magic. She bounced on her heels as she spoke, practically vibrating with excitement. The contrast between her current demeanour and my still-shaky limbs was almost jarring.

"How are you so... normal?" I couldn't help asking.

"Oh, the reformation?" Aria shrugged, her smile never wavering. "No point dwelling on it! Besides, the springs here are absolutely divine - well, infernal, actually, but you know what I mean!"

I followed Aria through winding corridors of black marble, trying to focus on her cheerful chatter rather than the lingering phantom pain in my limbs. Isabella's hand rested on my lower back, steadying me when I stumbled.

The Infernal Suite lived up to its reputation. A vast chamber opened before us, dominated by a series of interconnected pools that glowed with an inner crimson light. Steam rose in lazy spirals, and the air hummed with subtle magic.

"The attendants will bring refreshments shortly," Aria announced, already stripping off her clothes with characteristic lack of modesty. "I ordered that fancy wine you like, Isabella."

I watched as she slipped into the nearest pool, her sigh of pleasure echoing off the chamber walls. Isabella followed suit with more grace, carefully folding her garments before entering the water.

My hands shook slightly as I undressed. The reformation had left me feeling raw, like my skin didn't quite fit right. When I finally sank into the hot water, I couldn't hold back a gasp. The heat seemed to seep into my very bones, washing away the memory of dissolving into ash.

"First reformation's always the worst," Isabella said, sliding closer to wrap an arm around my shoulders. "The physical pain fades quickly, but the mental adjustment takes time."

"I still remember my first," Aria chimed in, floating on her back. "Got myself killed trying to flirt with a paladin. Totally worth it though - he was gorgeous."

I couldn't help but laugh at her shameless grin. "Only you would consider death by paladin 'worth it.'"

An imp attendant appeared with our drinks, setting them on the pool's edge before disappearing. Isabella reached for her wine, taking a long sip before passing my own glass to me.

"The trick is to replace the bad memories with better ones," she said. "Which is why we're here."

Aria swam over, claiming her glass. "Exactly! Nothing beats a proper spa day with friends."

The wine was rich and heady, warming me from the inside out. As we passed the bottle between us, sharing stories and laughs, I felt the tension gradually leaving my body. The water seemed to wash away not just the physical discomfort, but the emotional weight of our encounter with Cain.

"You know what would make this perfect?" Aria mused after her third glass. "If the water was just a tiny bit warmer."

The thought crossed my mind - how nice it would be if the temperature rose. My mana shifted without conscious effort. The pool's water heated instantly, steam rising in thick coils around us.

"Since when do you know thermal manipulation spells?" Isabella asked, her eyebrows raised.

I stared at my hands, still tingling with residual magic. The knowledge had surfaced from somewhere deep within - but not from any lessons or studies I could remember. "I... I don't know."