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... ss. One born of presence. Something vast had stepped into the world and the world, in return, held its breath.
Kiro stood in the clearing surrounded by corpses. His veins hummed with energy, Blood Venom pulsing at his side like a living thing, whispering for more.
Then came the sound.
Not the crack of thunder.
Not the whine of engines.
No—this was the sound of metal claws scraping stone. Of war-bred muscles dragging bone and fury across ruined soil.
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