Majestic white armor materialized over the fire-resistant robes Michael wore.
The protective shell was awe-inspiring.
Pristine medieval armor clung to him akin to a sacred blessing, radiant like the star he stood upon. Its surface was cold and smooth to the touch, emitting a calming degree of harmony, as if crafted from the heavens themselves.
Though the soothing presence it carried did not detract from its protective qualities.
Whether it was his arms, feet, or torso, no blind spots were visible, except for the head, which remained the only part of Michael's body left exposed.
He spent a few seconds marveling at the design before putting the armor to the test.
After clenching his fists, jumping, and stretching, Michael concluded that not only did the armor have no impact on his flexibility, but it also proved completely weightless.
Even the amplified gravity of the Sun barely had any effect. It was like he wasn't wearing any attire.
