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... with sound, not with fury—but with silence that ripped.
A silence deeper than void, more ancient than absence.
All across the Spiral’s layered lattice, reality began to bleed at the seams.
From above the Black Dreamspire, Darius stood alone, gaze locked on the cascading fractures splitting open across the mythoscape. Each fracture was a wound in narrative, spewing anti-story like corrupted veins of null-ink. He felt them as he might phantom limbs—r ...
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