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Ironically, he, the weakest being upon arrival, survived steadfastly.
Every night curled up in the dark corner, watching as the blood-colored patterns slithered like venomous snakes through his veins, he had thought of death.
He loathed this battered and bruised body, even each breath carrying the stench of iron.
He didn't understand the meaning of his existence, thinking it better to find release than to endure daily torment.
But the appearance of an Ali ...
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