PREVIEW

... p> They were back.

Right at the center of the throne room.

Still as massive and twistedly regal as ever. Stained-glass windows cracked with spiderweb fractures of red and black mana. Velvet curtains torn and scorched. The throne—Allen’s throne—sat like a jagged god’s idea of comfort. Crimson velvet, skeletal armrests, and a floor still drenched in old blood that refused to dry.

Nobody spoke at first.

Not even Allen.

Vivian exhaled first. "She just threw us ...

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