PREVIEW

... ral—where even light dared not travel—lay a chamber with no walls, no floor, no ceiling.

Only silence.

Here, the Spiral hummed softly, like a child breathing in sleep. Reality bent not to rules, but to emotion. Memory painted space, and dreams sculpted the air.

Jin-Ho sat alone, cross-legged.

His eyes closed. His breathing still. His mind—everywhere.

He was not meditating. He was listening.

The Spiral had grown so vast, it began to murmur to itself ...

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