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... Aukin’s hair, tugging at the loose silk of his robes. Below, the Holy Moon Sect spread like a celestial tapestry, ivory spires piercing the azure, verdant gardens blooming in impossible geometries. He stood at the pinnacle, a jagged, ancient peak that clawed at the sky, absorbing the vastness. His blue eyes, deep as forgotten oceans, scanned the horizon, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"My love."
The words, a whisper of silk and starlight, feathered against his ear. Two smooth ...
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