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... ands still trembling from the Core resonance. The Warden's Chain coiled faintly around his arm, half-real, half-symbol—a spiritual weapon born of memory and judgment.
It pulsed with weight. With a burden.
But he welcomed it.
He wasn't the same man who had stumbled into a cave with bloodied hands and a broken name.
Not anymore.
The echo of the shrine still lingered behind him. The fragmented throne whispered faintly to his Core, feeding his evolving presenc ...
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