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... uman’s vocal cords would.

No.

It burrowed into their minds. Into their bones. Her voice was weight itself. Her words were declarations.

An existential dread swept through the manor, thick enough to make even shadows seem too bright.

And still, she did not appear. No body. No silhouette. No face.

Just presence.

Just terror.

Just the knowledge that Vespera, Monarch of Shadows—the thing that should not be—was listening.

Was watching. < ...

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