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... orn hiss.
Raven stepped out into the stone corridor, boots clicking against scorched tile. The air still held the bite of soot and steel. Burnt dust clung to the edges of the dwarven carvings, and deep cracks ran like spiderwebs through the murals on the wall.
But the gate stood.
Blackened, chipped—but upright. Whole.
Ash still clung to the wind.
The battlefield beyond the outer gate stretched like a scar—charred barricades, shattered ballistae, and the bu ...
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