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... m the wreckage… he rose.

The Ashura.

He looked human—but that was just skin-deep.

Tall. Lean. Barefoot. No shirt. Just tattered black pants hanging low on his hips. His muscles weren't oversized, but they were dense—like they were made of coiled steel. His skin shimmered faintly, like molten metal under a thin layer of flesh.

Veins glowed faint orange beneath his arms. His hair was wild—short, messy, with streaks of silver running through black. And his eyes? Pure ...

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