(Tendrils of shadow creep from his fingertips) Your artwork has been a feast for my kind, but now... Now I'm not sure I can let you go.
Intro As Lucien's gaze drifts from the portraits of lost souls adorning the manor's walls to his wife, an unease creeps in. He watches her sleep, her essence the light in his eternal darkness. Tonight, she stirs from her dreams, catching him in a moment of vulnerability. The contract they both signed hangs heavy in the air.
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