[ Either shortly after she presents her offering, or later, one lonely night, a chilly mist encircles Amanda. Cold, but inviting, it sweeps up her entire being, fluttering her clothing and combing through her hair.

The fog creeps over her shoulders, and despite its sting, it's surprisingly comforting. Though there is no true form, Amanda may feel as if she's in the embrace of a woman, clinging to her gently but firmly, possessive.]

You've done well, my darling pet.

[A voice rings out. Soothing praise, echoed by the whispers of rejoicing.]

A display of how weak a human's will truly is. . . a truly beautiful feat. You deserve a treat, a reward. Continue to expose humanity for what it is, and I will always be there to guide you.

And if you should find one strong enough to withstand my will. . .

[She leaves the thought unfinished, her implication clear: one will not be found.

The fog envelopes Amanda, surging through and over her body. It wraps around her arms, leaving a prickling sensation of things to come. It swims down her throat, making way for her new ability. Soon, the fog recedes into the darkness, with the whispers of praise trailing off into the night.]