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... eath the daily lessons and formal lectures, something darker had taken root.

Lucien had already known.

It wasn’t instinct. It wasn’t suspicion.

It was pattern recognition—an art he’d perfected long before this life.

---

For days, he had kept track of one particular student—quiet, seemingly average, always fading into the background. He never spoke out of turn. Never drew attention. Never failed anything either.

Too invisible.

Lucien tailed ...

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