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... his chamber. The ceiling was painted with faded murals of past Demios champions—men and women wreathed in black flame, holding the banners of a legacy he had never been allowed to claim.

He blinked once. Then again.

The room was quiet except for the slow ticking of the ancient aetherclock on the wall. His fingers were curled slightly over the edge of the covers. No thoughts. Just weight—mental and emotional—hanging over him like storm clouds waiting to burst.

The door cl ...

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