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Chapter 46 – Beneath the Heavens, Beneath Their Feet
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Chapter 48 – The Puppet Court
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... ng obsidian spires that scraped at the fabric of the heavens, a silence so profound that it seemed as though the air itself held its breath. There was no sound here save for the occasional whisper of wind through the jagged stone, the soft sigh of forgotten winds. This was not a place where life thrived, nor where death was mourned. In the realm of the immortals, death was neither natural nor a matter of reverence. Here, death was a failure, an inconvenience. And in the world of the celestials, ...
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