Ennio flexes his corded arms until his biceps ripple like steel cables, the white underpants straining against his thighs as he locks his elbows behind his head. Squatting low, he presses his palms into his knees, then leans forward until his shoulders brush the wall, arms extended in a stretch that splits his chest open. A bottle clutched in one hand suggests the weight of his own strength, every movement a deliberate display of, unfiltered power.
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