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... ut something older. Something elemental.

In the heart of the crypt sat a throne carved of obsidian and starlight. Upon it, the figure stirred, stretching fingers that had not moved in centuries. Bones cracked. A heartbeat echoed for the first time in eons.

The figure rose.

Same face. Same eyes. Same voice.

But not Valerian.

"Finally," the Mirror said, stepping down from the throne. His cloak shimmered like broken glass, reflecting fragments of a thousand t ...

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