The Queen Watches in frustration

The wind returned like it had been waiting.

A slow breath through the ruined village. The fire beneath the snow vanished with the sigil, but the red mark on Asmodeus's chest still glowed through the torn fabric of his shirt—sharp lines, faintly pulsing, like a second heartbeat.

His hand brushed over it casually, as if it were just another scar.

Lumina approached first. Her fingers reached for the mark without hesitation, then paused just above his skin.

"…It's not fading."

"No," Asmodeus said.

Levia stood back, arms crossed, her silver eyes studying the mark with quiet calculation. "You made a connection. Whether you wanted it or not."

"It was already there," he said. "I just gave it a name."

Asmodea circled behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. "You shouldn't have said that," she murmured. "Not like that. You shouldn't have dared her to seduce you, darling. She'll try."

"I know," he said.