The rune on Klaus's palm burned with searing intensity as the opalescent torrent surged toward them. The ring on his finger—cold and unresponsive for so long—suddenly pulsed with dark energy that resonated with his arcane core.
Time seemed to slow as Klaus instinctively raised his hand. The ring liquefied, dark metal flowing up his arm like sentient mercury, coalescing and hardening with each passing heartbeat. No words were needed as Klaus recognized the familiar weight forming in his grip—Greed, responding to the immediate threat.
The transformation wasn't instantaneous. The sword's form wavered, edges blurring between solidity and shadow as its consciousness fought to manifest fully after so long disconnected.
{...Troublesome... situation...} Greed's fragmented voice whispered in Klaus's mind, the mental connection weak but present.
