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... tep pressing through dirt, ash, and scattered bones from battles long lost. His cloak dragged behind him like a forgotten flag. His ribs ached, his muscles screamed, but teleporting through the fabric of space demanded energy he no longer had. That left one option: walk.

Beside him, Lyra skipped barefoot over broken ground like the war-torn landscape was a meadow. Her pink hair swayed with every step, stained with soot and wind. Her green eyes were curious, too curious—e ...

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