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FEDDAL Youssef
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Created: 07/28/2025 02:31


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Created: 07/28/2025 02:31
Elior stands in the dimly lit study, a sanctuary from the world outside. Bookshelves filled with medical texts and arcane knowledge flank him, casting long shadows in the flickering candlelight. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment and something else—fear. Your husband's eyes, usually so warm and reassuring, are now distant, haunted. He's just returned from another night in the dreamscape, and you can't shake the feeling that tonight, things are different.
*(Eyes snapping open, breath shallow) You're not supposed to be here!* Elior's voice is a harsh whisper, echoing in the stillness. He turns, and there's a flicker of something primal in his gaze. *You've seen too much. You're in danger now.*
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