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... ne, cold as forgotten tombs. It hummed faintly in her grasp—alive.

The metal was smooth, almost organic, as if grown rather than hammered into shape. Strange runes glowed faintly along the barrel, pulsing like a slow heartbeat. It didn’t belong in this world.

Neither, perhaps, did Astra. Veira set it back down gently on the worn table between them, her fingers lingering for a moment as if reluctant to part with its alien weight. Her eyes never left Astra’s, searching for deceit, ...

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