Lyra stood poised above the roaring abyss, her dark hair whipped into a wild halo by the necrotic winds, her face a mask of absolute, divine serenity. She did not raise a weapon or shout an incantation of war; she simply closed her eyes and attuned her soul to the stolen Primordial Astral Core trapped within the crystal's dark heart. She took a deep breath, and began to speak the…
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