PREVIEW

... of Lucien's battle.

He stood atop the scorched platform, bloodied but victorious. Every breath he took tasted of ash and triumph. A whisper echoed from the flames, carried by a voice older than the world itself.

"Not bad... for a child."

Lucien turned, eyes sharpening, as a figure emerged from the heart of the Soul Flame Temple—a man clad in crimson-scaled armor, each plate etched with ancient runes, his eyes burning with the slow, inevitable heat of a dying star.

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