Aizel and Grandmaster Gogo stared in awe and dread at the pure black armor, admiring its terrifying design and intricate silver pauldrons. After a brief pause, the old man shook his head, as if recognizing the danger contained within the artifact.
"Why didn't it react?" the old man thought.
"Little Aizel, go and place your hand slowly toward the armor."
Aizel nodded while keeping his gaze locked on the black armor.
His footsteps echoed in the still chamber as he approached the magical artifact slowly.
Finally, he stood in front of the armor, the only sound breaking the silence being his breathing.
"Please don't bite me," he thought.
He took a deep breath and reached for the chest, his fingers twitching with excitement as he made contact with the cool, smooth surface of the black armor.
Aizel braced himself for a quick reaction as his fingers made contact with the dark armor, but nothing seemed to happen.
