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Chapter 165: Dream XII
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... ose, without destination, but overflowing with wonder.
Creation had once been about survival, about structure, about harmony. But now, it was about joy. Pure, spontaneous, radiant joy.
Nebulae unfurled like laughter caught in color. Moons traced spirals across the velvet dark, giggling in their silver arcs. Time itself loosened its grip, stretching and curling playfully like a cat basking in the warmth of eternity.
Everywhere, existence danced—not to arrive, but to move. ...
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