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*click, click, click* The rune-etched dials on the runic heart turn. Slowly. Slower. Slower. And then they halt completely. Their glow dims. Then fades completely. The spiderweb of magical threads inside the vessel's body disappear without a sound. The puppet shudders with a cacophony of loud scraping noises, and then collapses into a pile of clay fragments, which then decay into dust. The dust dissolves into invisible aether, sinking into the ground. It slowly drifts through the forsaken earth, back to its tomb. Deep within the Vortex. Sealed forevermore. Along with any hope of change. The winds stay silent, as they have for ages. Nothing happens. Nothing ever will. | |