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... g veil, and from within it stepped a woman — no, something far more dangerous.

She walked with the ease of a predator, slow, deliberate, each step echoing against the damp stone as though the very dungeon itself recognized her.

"Hello, my dear friends," she said, her voice sweet but hollow, as if it echoed through empty cathedrals, through memories long forgotten. "So many threads, tangling again. Races grasping for power, and still—none of them understand."

I raised my g ...

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