"So? You done?" Jinn raised a brow, his voice calm but edged, giving a stern look toward the masked individual who stood quietly in front of him.
The masked individual didn't answer right away.
Instead, they hummed faintly under their breath, the sound muffled beneath the elegant, golden mask that concealed their face.
The gaze was hard to read, but Jinn could feel it—those eyes were peering through the slits of the mask not to look at his face, but at something deeper.
As if the mysterious individual was staring through him… into him.
"So you are the one who had inherited… Venedix's eidra. Sunder Surge?" the masked individual finally asked, their voice low but clear.
Without waiting for Jinn's reply, the masked individual stepped closer, reaching out and gripping Jinn's right arm.
The hand was surprisingly cold through the glove as the individual lifted Jinn's limb slightly, examining the muscle, the tension in the veins, the flow of his eidra.
