Thirty-seven's interest was piqued upon seeing the large bucket. He peeled off the seal and began to sift through the compressed dust with his ethereal fingers, mumbling unintelligible phrases now and then.
Noah's account had been accurate. Not a hint of "Breath" lingered in the rank 6 serpent's ashes. Yet, with the automaton's extensive knowledge of inscription techniques, perhaps a use for such seemingly worthless material could be found.
At the snap of Noah's fingers, Thirty-seven snapped out of his contemplation and bobbed his head, signifying his readiness to assist with Noah's predicament.
"I'll also need something to conceal the formation on the flip side," remarked Noah. "It's prudent to err on the side of caution when dealing with the Royals."
With that, Thirty-seven vanished, task at hand, lugging the bucket with him. This did not bother Noah; to him, the ashes were nothing more than a conversation piece, holding no practical value.
