Hephaestus lowered his head slightly, shadows deepening the lines on his weathered face.
His voice came out rough, gravelly with exhaustion.
"I had no other choice."
The forge felt colder, the embers' glow dimming as if in sympathy.
"For my last creation… for a weapon suitable for someone like you… someone who can use powers no one else can…"
His tired eyes lifted toward Alex, holding a flicker of desperate hope.
"I needed something unique."
"Something no one else could even dream of wielding."
Alex sighed softly, arms crossed, the weight of the revelation settling in.
"So what did you use?"
Hephaestus looked at him and smiled faintly, a ghost of his former pride.
"A soul."
He paused, letting the word hang heavy in the smoky air.
"A soul so corrupted… and so cursed… that even death could not fully claim it."
Alex let out a low whistle, eyebrows rising.
"Yeah… I'm going to need more detail than that."
Hephaestus met his eyes.
