The figure paused. Its reply was slow, deliberate.
"Because you were the one who came. The one who sought, not for power alone, but for freedom. That choice makes you different. That choice makes you… possible."
Her chest tightened. Tears stung her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away.
Still, her hand trembled as she reached toward the blade. The glow flared brighter, filling the void with blinding radiance.
Her fingers hovered over the hilt.
And she stopped.
Her voice shook, but her words were firm.
"Not yet. I will not take you blindly. If I swear this oath, I must be certain. Show me… show me more. Show me what it means to carry you."
The void rumbled with the figure's laughter—deep, echoing, neither cruel nor kind.
"Very well, child. You wish to see the truth? Then witness it. Witness the blood and sorrow of those who bore me before you. Only then will you know if you are prepared to bind your soul."
