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... her stayed low, letting Raymam's borrowed gait carry him among the throng as they dispersed—some stumbling, some being helped, all hollowed by what they'd given. He let them pass, let the crowd smear over him like water, and when the last of the changed staggered away he drew one careful step closer to the dais.

He did not rush. The sanctum had teeth; haste would get them caught. Instead he moved with the same measured grace he used in combat: patient, economical, every motion rehearsed ...

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