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Voices clashed like weapons, bouncing off the iron walls of the Obsidian Council Room in sharp, overlapping fragments—accusations, demands, orders, panic. No unity. No leadership. Just noise.

And still... they wouldn’t let me speak.

I sat at the far end of the crescent table, out of the circle of power, holding Elliot in my arms as his little body curled tighter against mine. He was finally asleep—barely. His face damp with tears, his lashes trembling with every shuddered br ...

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