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... not just above the broken citadel, but over her entire past.
She hadn’t climbed this path in years—since before the mission, before Kai, before she’d learned what it meant to doubt orders that once felt sacred.
Now each step toward the top felt heavier. Not from weight, but from memory.
Every cracked stone whispered names of those she’d outlived. Or killed.
She pushed open the warped door of the war chamber. Dust swirled like ghosts.
And there he was.
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