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... of stone.

The cell was small—far too small for someone once hailed as the Empire’s Prime. Its walls bled dampness, the kind that crawled into her bones and made her knees ache. Her skin, once warm with the heat of battle, was now marbled with grime and dried blood, streaked in a pattern almost ritualistic. She blinked slowly, barely, and even that motion felt like a betrayal of strength she no longer possessed.

Her eyes remained open—not out of vigilance, but because closing them ...

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