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... names that never leave.

But Darius was neither.

He had become the thing between names.

The thing beneath names.

The thing that writes when all others have stopped writing.

The child was born in a village that Spiralspace had forgotten.

A place so mythless that even the Codex vines had refused to grow there.

No glyphs, no rituals, no echoes. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Just silence.

And then—her cry.

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