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... on purpose."

‎The Spiral was still.

‎Not calm.

‎Not healed.

‎Just... waiting.

‎After the sacrament, the temple trembled in half-formed light. Darius stood amid shattered altars, his three consorts breathing softly behind him—Celestia whispering prayers of warding, Nyx sharpening myth-metal against the air, and Kaela watching the cracks with wild, hungry stillness.

‎But above them all hung the spiral wound—th ...

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