[Recognition well met, then. Tyki comes further into the room once that crackle of tension dissolves, no fight seemingly needed. Better for his stamina; he's feeling more tired and distracted than he'd like, given the dire circumstances of their task.]

Already bossing me around, I see.

[Kaeya is lucky that he doesn't mind it much.

The cold gathers, ice growing as it engulfs the group of Atirat, a display of power that's fascinating to watch. He's never seen someone else wield an element. Tyki waits a few moments as it solidifies — crystalline, brutally blue where it imprisons its victims — before he circles around the other side. Make himself useful appears to the goal. A sheen of black fluid appears, covering his own hand like a glove all the way to the elbow, encasing it like armor.

Then he reaches out and cracks off one of those hands as easily as if it were made of wet paper. The noise is loud, almost sickening in the amphitheater of the room, a domed ceiling far above their heads as if this Hourglass had sat in some grand display a time ago.]

I almost feel bad for them. But at least like this, they don't feel any pain. [...] Probably.