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... ragged behind him like torn banners. Divine ichor oozed from the rents in his skin, each breath a rasp through teeth clenched with rage.

But his aura hadn't faded.

It burned darker now, purer, like death refined into something leaner, sharper, ready to kill without beauty.

"You don't understand," he growled, voice rasping like a knife across stone. "This is divinity. It doesn't care about your bonds. It doesn't yield to hope. It doesn't answer to love."

Alan's swo ...

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