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A world of unknown was now in front of him.
The hall vanished, and so did his throne.
Azrael felt no ground beneath his feet, no air in his lungs, yet he was not suffocating.
He existed in a place where those things had never been needed.
Light moved around him, not as brightness but as information.
Threads stretched in every direction, crossing, splitting, knotting together.
Those threads intertwined, creating a river of silver light that fl ...
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