...Sarkina's slender hand rose, her fingers pointing at the massive jar floating beside Lucifer.
Only now did Lucifer turn to it.
His golden eyes flickered with something rare—mild surprise.
The runes on the jar—once pulsing with a sacred glow—were now dim, lifeless.
A mere husk of their former brilliance.
Lucifer waved his hand, and the jar split apart, its pieces unraveling in a fluid, almost graceful disassembly.
And then—
The child was revealed.
Or rather, what remained of him.
Where there had once been flesh, warmth, life…
Now stood a dried husk, a withered corpse, utterly drained.
Sarkina sighed, her gaze solemn as she finally spoke.
"My lord… your power may have been too much for the forbidden treasure."
Her voice was soft, reverent, but filled with understanding.
She knew.
She always knew.
"And… there is also the matter of your touch."
She bowed her head slightly.
"Anything that touches you, my lord, can never react with the world the same way again."
