Azarel.

[Ding! Choose your appearance.]

Arthur focused.

A mental image formed—Azarel

Dark hair, sharp eyes, neutral expression.

Instantly, he felt the change.

A cool wave spread over his skin, his facial bones adjusting subtly.

Then—his vision returned.

Arthur turned to look at Lucas.

Lucas smiled. "Good. The mask is working perfectly."

Arthur lifted a hand, touching his face.

It felt… normal.

No weight, no obstruction.

Just his face.

Except—it wasn't.

Lucas gestured toward a mirror conjured from thin air. "Take a look."

Arthur stepped forward.

His reflection stared back at him.

Exactly as he had imagined.

Arthur inhaled deeply.

Arthur lowered his hand from his face. "I'll admit… this is impressive."

Lucas nodded. "I thought you'd like it."

Arthur glanced at him. "And if I fail to return your favour?"

"You will not." Lucas smiled.