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... a living punctuation mark at the end of a sacred sentence.

One touch, one stroke of his quill, and the entire foundation of the narrative world would shift.

Not just his story. Everyone's.

His fingers hovered an inch from it quivering not with fear, but with awareness. This was more than power. This was the authorship of fate itself.

Behind him, the others held their breath.

Kael gripped his sword's hilt, sweat rolling down his temple despite the cold ink ...

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Wen Rou facepalmed, “Aiyo, ~(@^_^@)~”

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