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Chapter 211: Voyage
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... ut had no form yet.
Nadir and the others drifted through it, each leaving traces of their perception that crystallized into gentle contours: faint ridges of light, valleys of silence, rippling plains that folded inward like pages yet to be written.
"Every thought leaves residue," Iris said, walking her hand through the mist. "We're shaping without meaning to."
Nadir replied, "Then meaning itself is the first architecture."
The Foundation
They agreed not to ...
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