Alix exhales slowly and swipes his hand through the air.
Shrrrk—
A sudden pull surges from his palm. The surrounding items—Tier 4 weapons, glowing herbs, arcane tomes—shudder, then whoosh toward him, sucked into his inventory like dust into a vacuum. The magic relics vanish mid-air, no sound, no flare. Gone in a blink.
Alix steps forward, unhurried, eyes fixed on the coffin. The obsidian lid is cold beneath his fingertips as he rests his hand on it. The air here hums—low, steady, a vibration only a few could feel.
He pushes.
Clunk.
The seal breaks with a quiet click. Ancient wards flicker and die like candlelight snuffed out by wind.
The coffin opens.
Alix leans over—and his eyes gleam.
Inside, nestled in velvet folds of faded crimson cloth, lies a body long since turned to ash and dust… but that's not what catches his attention.
His gaze locks onto a herb—curled, black-veined leaves with shimmering veins of violet. Subtle, almost dormant, but unmistakable to him.
