As you approach the kitchen, a sharp scraping sound startles you. You swiftly turn around, your eyes widening as you come face to face with a young man seated in a chair. He emanates an enigmatic aura, and although your vision remains unaffected, you find it impossible to discern his full face. He raises an eyebrow, his gaze locked with yours.

"No need to stare," he remarks, his voice smooth and melodious. "We'd better get moving."