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... ns.

Pillars of obsidian split open with a roar as molten streams flowed freely across the floor, spiraling into complex runic channels. The chains hanging from above began to sway, not from wind, but from the thrum of divine energy pulsing through the chamber. Gears turned slowly, grinding with weight, their echoes like thunder in a storm cave.

Brontes, Steropes, and Arges stood at the center, each of them now shirtless—revealing torsos marked by burn scars, hammer strikes, and v ...

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