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... ps across a tilt like she was knitting a ladder out of refusal. Jax carved lines and made gravity rude. I needled the Warden with Stormvein pulses whenever the cooldown coughed up a chance, stealing syllables from his rune-song and bleeding his joints one insult at a time.
He learned. He adapted. He got angrier. And then he changed tone.
"Enough," he said, and lifted both arms.
The terraces rose in a four-petal flower with us at the center. Streets became walls, walls bec ...
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