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... tself was cracking apart. Sarissa stood alone, bruised and bloodied, swaying in a wasteland of splintered memories.
Dust swirled at her feet. The sky above, fractured with hairline cracks of gold and obsidian, reflected the chaos within her soul. Memory shards blinked in and out of existence. Some half-formed, some screaming with voices long gone.
Ahead, her younger self rose again.
Still barefoot, wild-eyed, still holding the blade made of every scar, every failure, ever ...
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