He was an Aasimar sculpted from conflict: divine light warring within a mortal vessel. Golden cracks, like fissures in sun-baked earth, webbed across his skin, pulsing with an intense inner radiance that threatened to blaze free. His eyes burned with the fierce, molten orange of dawn igniting the horizon. Even his steel armor seemed forged in celestial fire, its surface blistered and scorched as if held too close to the sun, a testament to the power barely contained within.