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She recognized him: Nathan Graves, a forgotten hunter from the early 1800s, his soul trapped here because he had used the Dark Metamorphosis ability too many times. The power had saved him in battle but fused his spirit to the castle's agony.

"Elara," he said, his voice raw. "What have you become?"

She traced the final rune on the floor. The castle groaned. Somewhere above, a harpsichord played itself, its keys bleeding. Castlevania.Advanced.Collection-GamingBeasts.co...

He raised the sword. Behind him, a giant eye opened in the wall—the Power of Dominance , gone feral.

She stood in a moonlit garden, but the flowers were screaming. Beside her, a man in silver armor clutched a broken locket. "You're not her," he whispered. "You're not my Lydie." She recognized him: Nathan Graves, a forgotten hunter

Nathan laughed, blood seeping from his gauntlets. "Good. Let me go. Just promise me—don't trust the harmonica."

The mirror shattered. Shards flew into her skin like baptismal rain. Suddenly, she could see them all—Nathan, Soma, a woman in a moonlit cloak ( Circle of the Moon's Camilla), a pale swordsman named Maxim, even a tiny fairy familiar with broken wings. They existed now inside her , their powers colliding. "What have you become

"You're not Dracula," Elara said.