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... walked without pageantry. No vanguard of banners. No heralds trumpeting his name. He wore a robe of deep black, trimmed not in gold but a flat steel-gray, like the edge of a whetted blade.

Each step was deliberate, echoing like a ticking clock through the marbled vastness.

The courtiers parted for him not out of reverence, but instinct—like leaves fleeing from the path of a shadow they did not see coming.

Maximus did not look to either side as he ascended the central dais ...

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