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... Death. He glanced at the well once more before moving toward it and gazing deep into the aperture.

His eyes met the cold, black gaze of the Weaver, who was eternally spinning the cosmic threads that connected and sustained reality.

There was no hate, anger, or judgment in the ancient spider’s eyes. Only the vast, cosmic indifference of an entity focused solely on ensuring the continuity of the threads of fate.

Aaric did not stay long in that realm and soon returned to the ...

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