As the days passed, Reimu's transformation became more pronounced. She began to spout slogans and propaganda, her voice devoid of emotion. Her once-vibrant personality was now a distant memory, replaced by a cold, calculating demeanor.
At first, the effects were subtle. Reimu's movements became slightly stiff, her actions mechanical. Her usually bright eyes took on a glassy, far-off quality, as if she was staring into the void. Her speech became stilted and formal, lacking the usual warmth and friendliness.
“You see, Hakurei,” Yukari murmured, stepping from a gap beside her, “your ‘balance’ has always been a cage. You protect a world that fears you.”
The sun had just begun to set over the tranquil landscape of Gensokyo, casting a warm orange glow over the thatched roofs of the Hakurei Shrine. Reimu Hakurei, the shrine's resident priestess, was busy preparing for the evening's rituals, her usual energetic demeanor slightly subdued after a long day of exorcisms.