With a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped over his head, Asher stood before the mirror that hung neatly on the wall. His eyes lingered on the reflection staring back at him, drinking in the image of his own body.
His physique was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Muscles pressed firmly against his skin, compact and defined, forming a lean and powerful frame. His abs, perfectly arranged in a symmetrical six-pack, gleamed faintly under the light and water.
Every line, every contour, carried the weight of discipline and perfection, sculpted as though by the very hand of the gods themselves. Standing there, he resembled not merely a man, but rather the youngl incarnation of some forgotten war deity, reborn into flesh.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Asher's lips as he gazed into the mirror. In his past life as Ethan, the sight before him would have been unthinkable. Back then, he had been an ordinary man, one who dreamed but never truly achieved it.
