The instant her fingers touched the hilt, silver-white light surged from the blade.
It spread along her fingers to her arm, shoulder, and entire body.
It was not an attack, nor was it corrosion. It was fusion.
The sword sensed her body, analyzed her energy, and searched for a way to coexist with her.
Eve closed her eyes and felt that energy flowing through her veins.
There was no pain, only a strange sensation, as though she were wrapped in warm tides.
She could feel the sword's presence, not as an external object.
But as a part of her body, like a third arm, like another sense extending outward from her.
She opened her eyes and raised the sword before her.
The blade gleamed silver-white beneath the laboratory lights, while faint ripples of energy pulsed along its edge like breathing.
"It is called the Necrosword," Loren said. "It was once inhabited by the consciousness of an evil god, but now it is clean. It is yours."
Eve's dark brown eyes watched the silver-white light on the blade as her fingers tightened slightly around the hilt.
"It is powerful."
"Very powerful," Loren said. "But no matter how powerful it is, it is only a tool. What truly matters is the person who wields it."
Eve raised her head and looked at him.
"You trust me?"
"I created you. Of course I trust you unconditionally."
Eve fell silent for a moment, then smiled—a smile from the depths of her heart, as though she had finally found where she belonged.
Her smile looked especially bright in the laboratory's white light, like a flower blooming in the darkness.
She sheathed the sword at her waist. The scabbard was part of her body's energy field, automatically condensing into shape when the sword neared her hip.