Approximately 48hours later, Corey stood in front of an armor with a bright but exhausted gaze in his eyes.
This was his armor, the armor he had crafted. His personal armor that would follow him to the peak of power.
He had done it, and he was extremely proud and happy.
Just like Primus, the armour had a glass-like appearance, but it was not clear glass but smoked glass.
The armor was like a tight suit armor made out of skin and glass at the same time. It also looked old and new at the same time, as if it had existed long before Corey ever put it on, yet had only just decided to take shape.
It fits his body closely, not tight, not loose, but just the perfect size.
The surface of the armour wasn't polished, but it was rough either. If one ran their hand over it, it would feel smooth, warm, and strangely familiar... almost like a skin one was used to touching.
