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... ithin them, a tide of visions bloomed like an ever-unfolding lotus of paradox.

Lines of golden light flickered in his gaze as flashes from outside the sealed Dyson Singularity passed through his Absolute Fictional Transcendence.

Not mere veiled words. Not mere meanings. But the full weight of Fable with very little left behind!

Aetheron, with his sharp tongue and hollow eyes.

Oryzarakh, with his scolding thoughtcast that stung like a whip.

The White Parado ...

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