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Ning Que stood in the cockpit, the light from the fractured heavens casting shadows across his face. The clouds churned in crimson spirals, streaked with pulses of violet and molten gold. Lightning forked sideways, not down — arcing through the air like severed nerves. All around them, the atmosphere shimmered as if the world was being seen through warped glass.

Below them, Haven City was a bleeding dream.

Once a beacon of stability, it now resembled ...

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