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... ssures glowed faintly, the widow's echo thudding like a heart deep beneath the stone. For a moment it seemed they had starved the storm.

Then the sky split.

From the roiling clouds peeled back a shape—no limb, no beast, but a mask vast as the horizon. Hollow eye sockets burned with shifting ash, and its mouth was a cavern without end. The storm had given itself a face.

Elara clutched her son tighter, shielding his gaze. But the boy squirmed, whispering hoarsely, "Don't hi ...

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