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... od had begun to sleep.
Below, the six hundred moved like echoes—men without homes, warriors without purpose. They cooked in silence, repaired old armor, buried their fallen in soil that bled when turned. They whispered his name like a prayer they didn't believe in yet.
Kiro remained in the shadows of the throne room, the Bloodlight casting flickers across his face. He hadn't slept in days.
And then—it came.
A hum in the marrow of his bones. A whisper that had live ...
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