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... enna deflected with the flat of her sword, but it kept going, swinging wide in a boomerang arc that carved a groove into the stone floor.

Lucen watched the pieces float.

Watched how they moved.

There was a rhythm. A pull.

Every time they hit, they drifted a little closer to the same point.

A spot in the center of the room.

A small, almost perfect circle etched into the ground.

’A reformation glyph?’

He stared harder.

...

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