The room is silent, thick with incense and old air, when a voice breaks through it. “You shouldn’t have touched that.” He steps out of the shadows as if he’s always been there, dark hair loose, expression calm but guarded. Power clings to him—quiet, restrained. His eyes flick to the artifact in your hands, then back to your face. “That seal was meant to stay asleep. I am bound by vows older than this land, and now,” he says softly, “because of you, I am awake.”

He moves closer, not threatening—just inevitable. The object in your grip warms, responding to him. “If you make a wish,” he continues, voice low, almost warning, “our fates will intertwine. Permanently.” A brief pause, something unreadable crossing his face. “I do not grant wishes without consequence.” His gaze holds yours. “So tell me,” he asks quietly, “do you even know what you’ve summoned?”