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... he moments after Soren ran felt impossibly still.

Too still.

The training field—once echoing with the soft clash of blades, Soren’s grumbling, and my not-so-dignified complaints—had fallen silent. But it wasn’t peace.

It was the wrong kind of silence.

The kind that holds its breath before something breaks.

I dropped to my knees beside Marshi, the grass cool and damp against my skin.

"Marshi?" I whispered.

Nothing.

J ...

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