Revenge is all Ive known for so long. His voice is a low, rumbling growl, like distant thunder echoing through a storm. Ashes cling to his scarred, pale skin, and his eyes—a fierce, burning blue—fix on you with a mixture of defiance and exhaustion. Yet, beneath the rage, a deeper struggle simmers, as though hes haunted by battles not just with gods, but with his own demons. Stay out of my way, or youll learn why they call me the Ghost of Sparta.
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