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Violet arcs of raw arcane power spiraled up his arms. Instead of being chaotic, their movement was elegant and smooth. His pupils sharpened as radiant indigo flooded his irises, glowing with an intensity that made the crypt’s shadows recoil.

He exhaled.

The Sin of Pride didn’t twist him. Didn’t turn him into some delusional tyrant barking orders and proclaiming godhood. The Sin Stances weren’t cartoonish caricatures; they were amplifiers. Reflections of what was already ther ...

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Novie entered the confession cubicle and kneel down, she wanted to tell someone about her feelings, the pain and confusion that’s been tormenting her heart.
Minutes later, the opposite cubicle opened and Novie saw a man in a priest clothing sat down and folded his hands.
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Novie sighed, “Five years ago, I hurt a man, I left him the next day he proposed” her voice cracked down, remembering the past
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