Azzy lifted his hand, showing the glowing Music Box of Semele, its divine curse radiating waves of golden and black light across the hall.
"I came only to retrieve this — to ensure the world remains safe."
The Werewolf Lord's growl faltered as Azzy continued.
"This," Azzy said, turning the box slightly so the engraved Olympian symbols glinted under the fading lightning, "is not the treasure of mortals. It is a relic of the gods. It does not belong in your hands — or in this world."
His eyes, cold and absolute, met the Werewolf Lord's as he said words of finality. "As such, I have the full right to take it with me, and Gaia wouldn't punish me for that."
The beast fell silent.
