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... She didn't wince. Didn't speak. Just turned and slowly stepped forward, knees dropping to the ground with a practiced grace.

Her head bowed low as her hands pressed together, forming the gesture everyone knew. The act of prayer.

I watched in silence, arms crossed behind my back.

It was time.

"Mirathis-" She spoke his true name. The one etched into Neba itself. As her voice carried, the temperature in the room shifted.

A pressure built in the air. The kind ...

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