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... hair disintegrated like ash. Soon, his body crumbled into mere fragments.

It was the death of a phenomenon.

Jade confirmed his demise. Brushing back his hair, he lifted his head.

Shattered space. Through the twisted gaps and fissures, there was the sky.

He closed his eyes, bathed in a handful of sunlight. A halo of light drenched his entire body.

“…Insignificant.”

Thus, the end of battle is always empty. Nothing remains, and no sentiment arises.

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