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... cent but a passage through memory, each step forward echoing not in stone but somewhere deeper, beneath skin and sinew, as though every inch of progress stirred a thousand forgotten echoes awake inside him.
Caliste emerged from the chamber with his breath slower, steadier—his movements newly weighted not by exhaustion but by the strange gravity of revelation. The gauntlet still encased his arm like a second skin, its blackened surface etched with veins of pulsing heat that dulled only wh ...
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