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... e joints, molten veins pulsing like a second heartbeat beneath the plates. His hand stretches out—open, then closes into a fist. A deep hum echoes across the sky as heat coils around him, air warping violently.
Then, in a single, fluid motion, he releases it.
A Tier 5 skill slams down from the heavens—a roaring fist of flame and force, wrapped in spiraling embers and screaming winds, aimed directly at the center of Braenhall.
But—
Nothing.
No screams.
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