generate image from text: "I went to the morgue," Jonas corrected. He reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out the spool of Aurelian thread. He didn't take off his glove, but the moment the spool was exposed to the air, the room seemed to darken. The gold wire caught the dim light, glowing with a preternatural, ancient intensity. Sofia’s eyes went wide. She took a step back, her hand flying to her throat. "Where did you get that? That... that is not for you. That is the *Sorgente*." "It’s the end of the line, Sofia," Jonas said, holding the spool between them like a holy relic. "This is why the knots are failing. This is why the 'soul' of Castiglione is bankrupt. You ran out of the miracle, so you started selling the lie." He stepped closer, his presence looming over her. The Aurelian Knot on his wrist began to thrum in perfect synchronization with the spool in his hand. The sensory overload was a tidal wave now—he could feel the microscopic vibrations of the building’s foundations, the chemical decay of the paintings on the walls, and the frantic, terrified heartbeat of the woman in front of him. "Take me to Lorenzo," Jonas commanded. "Now. Before I decide to tell the world that the most prestigious brand in Italy is built on insurance fraud and fairy tales." Mehr sehen