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The ink comes alive, and light bleeds in the shadows. A hermit moves through his wound, and the void transforms into a path. Silence slowly opens, allowing a black flower to bloom, breathing freedom. The world whispers its call, as if telling it to return and recreate itself.
A hooded figure shrouded in darkness stands in a mystical landscape. His glowing eyes contrast with his muscular form, adorned with ornate armor, while a lotus flower emerges from his side.