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I hid my disfigurement beneath my cowl and slipped away. I was delirious when I reached the Seat of Infinity. Did I dream up this kind soul among the cherubs and the faceless masters? She welcomed me without flinching and offered nourishment...
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The Pupil slid the ritual knife into his wrist. He scraped flesh from bone, flaying himself. A low moan escaped his lips, as anguish and pleasure intermingled freely. The Sages accepted this offering, tossing his bloody gift into the flames. It was madness, yes, but his sacrifice was beautiful. Only the Revered could inspire a man to self-inflict such suffering...
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As smoke choked my vision and tears welled in my eyes, the world itself burned white hot, but beneath it all, there was nothing. No monsters, no gods, only oblivion. The consecrated fires revealed cinders and shadows, yet I strained to see more. Surely, these Sages offered more than the assurances of annihilation?