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... d open like a lazy yawn—fitting, honestly. The Sloth estate didn’t bother with grandeur. Just a ripple in the air, a curl of dream-scented mist, and a hallway that looked like someone halfway remembered what palaces were supposed to look like. Everything was soft. Dim. Quiet.
Sira stepped through in heels far too sharp for the velvet moss underfoot, her Pride aura trailing behind her like perfume. She didn’t adjust to the atmosphere. The atmosphere adjusted to her.
Every step ech ...
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