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... oing in his mind, felt heavier now, denser. He could feel its rhythm under his skin, in his breath. It wasn’t malevolent... but it was vast, endless, indifferent.

He sheathed his sword slowly. "If what you say is true, then why warn me? What do you gain?"

Veyrath turned away, his voice like velvet stretched thin over old scars. "Because I was once like you." He reached out, pressing his hand against the wall of the vault. The runes nearest his touch flared gold, then dimmed again ...

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