He gestured at the spear with obvious frustration. "Magnificent weapon, but completely unusable. I've tried everything to break the curse, but it's woven into the weapon's soul. It can't be removed without destroying the spear itself."
Jack reached toward the weapon, his clawed hand extending.
"I wouldn't," Kaedor warned. "Even brief contact is unpleasant for most demons. Some describe it as having their soul slowly pulled apart."
Jack's fingers wrapped around the shaft.
The moment his skin made contact, a voice erupted in his mind.
{OH THANK THE FORGOTTEN GODS, FINALLY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW BORING IT IS BEING STUCK IN A VAULT FOR DECADES?}
Jack's expression didn't change, though internally he noted the weapon's immediate enthusiasm.
{Wait, wait, you're not screaming. You're not dying. You're not even flinching. What are you?}
