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... > No windows. No banners. No scent of incense or oil. Only cold air, old stone, and a single source of lamp suspended high above—enough illumination to define edges, angles, and posture, but not enough to soften anything. Shadows clung to the walls like witnesses that had learned long ago not to speak.

At the center stood a circular pedestal of dark granite.

Sylen Silia stood upon it.

She was perfectly still.

She is 13 years old. She has small boobs and round hips ...

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