From a rift in the air, Samael drew a massive arrow—three meters long, its shaft forged from exotic materials harvested from the Eldritch City Xenorealm.
Blackened crystal veins ran through its surface, pulsing with a faint, sickly glow, as if the arrow itself resented being summoned.
Oizys's shadowy tendrils, writhing like fleshy tentacles, coiled around the arrow, shaping it into the heart of a spectral ballista.
The weapon formed rapidly, its frame a grotesque fusion of divine steel and void-forged sinew, its strings humming with latent energy.
Oizys's fingers lingered on the bolt, her eyes softening. "It's a shame, you know. This Eldritch Bolt… I've grown fond of it. It feels wrong to fire it so soon."
Samael's deadpan face cracked into a smirk, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You're practically married to it with how you're caring for it. Poor Kivas, betrayed by a glorified arrow."
