PREVIEW

... ispering through the marrow of his bones, pulling him deeper into the armory’s heart.

He stilled his breath.

Focused.

Listened.

There — in the quiet between echoes, a call. Subtle, but certain. Something was drawing him.

Without hesitation, he followed it.

A right turn.

A left.

He passed shelves of rusted axes, vitrines filled with gilded spears, and pedestals holding blades that buzzed like living nerves. Some weapons hissed. Other ...

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