[His hands are locked up over his head by cuffs fastened to the wall. Between the cuffs is a long metal chain that is clearly adjustable.

His ankles are shackled with another chain between them but that clearly hasn’t stopped him. Diluc snorts, but his face is flat, the calm of a soldier in enemy territory.]

If you’re going to take offense, you can do it when we’ve escaped. Tell me how you’re bound. I can’t fully see from my vantage point.