Caelum's golden eyes flicked toward the blazing figure, his lips curling into a cold, appreciative smile. "Heh. What a cunning skill. Using gratitude as currency... turning kindness into chains." He shook his head slowly, his grip on the Lance of Pride tightening. "I'll have to remember that."
Adam's crimson gaze followed the flow of energy, watching as it streamed from the city's huddled masses into Kurt's waiting form. His voice was low, cold, carrying a weight that cut through the chaos.
"Sickening. All of you... are beyond forgiveness."
Kurt's chest heaved as the last of the stolen energy settled into his core. He could feel it—every drop of life force, every ounce of hope, every desperate prayer that had been offered in exchange for Croft's "generosity." It burned within him, hot and yearning, demanding to be used.
"Master," Kurt called, his voice strained but steady. "The harvest is complete."
