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... g mountain split open with a roar, and he clawed his way out, slick with ash and heat.
He was not human.
Not this time.
Four limbs—no, six.
Scaled skin, slick and dark.
Eyes like molten gold, without pupils.
No voice.
Only breath. And hunger.
The air was sharp with the scent of ozone and blood. Thunder rolled constantly above, and the clouds were black with wings.
The world was wild.
Forests of crystalline trees howl ...
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