Sewing needle

Ivan

Barakael was gone.

As the memory faded, his presence disappeared from my mind. The last thing he let me see was him walking out of the inner chambers of Dagan's tomb, a set of scales in his left hand and a strange mask in his right. It's hard to tell what he looked like because his features kept changing, so what I saw was my own face. That wasn't as unbearable as seeing Nefra's face in the sarcophagus instead of the demoness she'd once been. It blended with seeing her lying on the hospital table, Black coral around her mouth, no life in her body.

That was the point, though, wasn't it?