Fear wears a crown of silent screams; its throne built from every unspoken dread.
It roams the endless corridors of hearts, whispering endings no one else dares to name.
But in the deepest chamber of its realm, fear begins to tremble.
Its many hands grasp at nothing, its countless eyes avoiding every gaze.
For there is someone who walks its halls, untouched by any chain it ever forged. Someone who never flinches at its touch, never bows beneath its weight, never gives it the tribute of a single breath.
Fear, the ancient devourer of courage, now cowers in its own shadow.
It learns a harsh truth—the only thing it truly fears is the one who was never afraid of it to begin with.
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Eight thousand years had slipped by in what felt like the blink of an eye for all beings.
But the instant the deadline arrived, those in True Reality didn't waste a moment finalizing the change.
