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Chapter 1: The Edge of Silence
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Chapter 3: The Fulcrum Shifts
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... ness. Within moments, it grew violent, tearing apart everything he recognized as himself. There was no corridor of light, no promise of gentle rebirth. Instead, there was a roaring storm, where colors bit into his nerves and sounds pressed down on his skull with real, physical weight.
A stripe of impossible violet raked through him like glass. In the storm, he tasted copper, heard iron shriek against stone, and felt saltwater sting skin that he was only just beginning to claim as his own ...
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