Rosin Karat—the Old Devil—rose from his prison with eyes like burning stars and a presence that bent the very air around him. His body, once gaunt and suppressed, now radiated divine might.
He stood tall, his robes flared with residual energy, and the force of his awakening sent the nearby debris spiraling through the chamber. The Supreme Being cast his gaze on Emery and offered a solemn nod—gratitude without words.
Then, without pause, his glowing eyes fell on the man crumpled on the ground: Veyarel.
Veyarel was convulsing, twitching like a man caught between two worlds. "Master... you're free..." Master... I—I can't hold it… that thing inside me—ARGHHH!!"
Rosin Karat stepped forward and placed a hand on Veyarel's forehead. A pulse of cosmic power surged from the Supreme's palm, and Veyarel's body jerked as a black mist began to pour out from his orifices, writhing like a living thing. Veyarel calmed instantly, though he remained pale, barely conscious.
