Memories of being entombed amidst the lifeless forms of Blood Slaves stacked and pressing him on the beneath, that led those corpses to burn upon contact with the sun's rays, casting a shadow over his features.
"Tch," His expression, once composed, darkened with the weight of that memory.
…
Several moments passed, and the gentle warmth that had filtered through the broken glass, casting an embracing glow, gave way as the morning sun ascended to its zenith.
The view it had promised was now lost, obscured by the brilliance of the sun itself. Frustration mingled with determination as Jin meticulously combed the area, every inch of the floor beneath his searching gaze.
With a dissatisfied click of his tongue, he conceded, "Bad luck." The words emerged as a mutter, his mouth curving downwards in an expression of discontent.
Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he deleted the entry for Luminous Sky Lounge from his list.
