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Chapter 6: The Primordial
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Chapter 8: The Lion’s Den
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... l in any flashy, fireworky way. Just... different.
Clive—now Avin—sat submerged in a tub that was more sculpture than bath. It was crafted from what appeared to be unrusting gold, the kind that didn’t dull, didn’t stain, didn’t even hold water stains. The surface was smoother than marble, warm without fire, and etched along its edges were glyphs that occasionally blinked, as if syncing to a silent, unseen rhythm.
Steam drifted lazily into the air, but the water d ...
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