Caelum stepped forward and placed the object into Trafalgar's hands with the same precision he applied to everything else. There was no flourish, no pause meant to elevate the moment. The transfer was clean, almost clinical, yet the weight of the item was immediately apparent. Compact. Dense. Designed to occupy as little space as possible while carrying far more purpose than its size suggested.
It fit naturally in Trafalgar's palm.
The casing was dark and smooth, interrupted only by faint, angular engravings that traced its surface like restrained circuitry. Mana slept inside it, compressed and disciplined, not leaking, not reacting. It felt less like a tool waiting to be activated and more like a mechanism already prepared to act on its own.
Trafalgar looked at it for a moment, then raised his eyes to Caelum.
"May I open it?"
The question came out calm, almost formal, as if asking permission were still the correct approach in a situation that felt quietly abnormal.
