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... sharp in the heavy quiet of the cell.
The lantern’s flame trembled as if it could feel the tension pressing into the room.
The iron door rattled once.
Then the lock slid aside.
A single hinge groaned.
And two figures in dark, layered cloaks slipped inside.
The Root agents never moved like soldiers.
Soldiers had weight—footsteps, presence, breath you could measure.
Root moved like smoke that learned how to walk like men.
The ...
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