Otherwise — yes. Strong. But still weak. Particularly the Primordial Blood element, which remained a nascent, untrained, barely comprehended instrument of destruction that he wielded with roughly the same proficiency as a child wielding a broadsword.
He could swing it. It would damage things; and whether those things would be exclusively the things he intended to damage was a question that would keep Eira awake at night and keep him humble during the days.
So, they'd felt all of this — the endless dark, the suffocating bloodlust of the Primordial Blood, the void-cold infinity — but hadn't felt the Bond.
Good.
He didn't tell them about neither did he tell Melissa his fruitful adventures of the previous night and this afternoon either — the mystery boxes, the Witness Bind, the things the System had handed him like a cosmic patron dispensing increasingly unhinged gifts to a protégé whose capacity for absorbing unhinged gifts was, apparently, bottomless.
