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... them, as if the city itself breathed along with its people.
And at the center of it all stood a figure.
Not the woman.
Him.
Jude felt his breath catch. It wasn’t just someone who **looked** like him. It wasn’t a trick of memory or illusion. The man standing at the heart of the city’s golden light was him. Or rather, who he had been.
His past self stood with a presence Jude could barely comprehend. Power rippled off him in waves, not chaotic, not destructiv ...
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