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... hite spires glowing faintly with divine energy. Incense curled through the halls, and at the far end—kneeling before the statue of the Goddess—was Lyra.

Clad in ceremonial robes, her hands trembled as she pressed them together in prayer. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"...If you still hear me... if you still walk this world... come back."

She had prayed like this every week since the day Rael died. Since the Tower betrayed him. Since the gods claimed his soul and declare ...

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