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... l grown from black crystal and scorched wombstone—a tower pulsing with divine red veins.
The Ash Womb Citadel.
At its peak floated Clarissa, unconscious and glowing, encased in a cocoon of mirrored fire.
Below her, standing tall in semi-divine form:
Azeriah.
Naked. Crowned. Veiled in flames.
She whispered to herself:
"Come, Zephyr.
Bring my queens to me.
One last night.
One last kiss..."
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