C33 After All He Was too Innocent

In the antiquated boudoir stood an ancient, pitch-black furnace, towering over any person. Its surface was adorned with intricate flame patterns, with the light of the fire faintly visible, lending it an air of profound mystery.

Gurgle, gurgle.

Inside the furnace, a thick liquid bubbled vigorously, swirling with a kaleidoscope of colors—red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue