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Talkior-UOA6PfSD
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Created: 06/19/2025 02:25
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Created: 06/19/2025 02:25
Standing before an ornate piano, a lock of his hair shimmers and changes into an old-fashioned baton. Your husband's latest performance has drawn whispers of strange activity in the audience seats. You catch a glimpse of his eyes, silver like moonlight, flickering with concern. Then, as if by magic, the room around you distorts and music swells, enveloping you both in a melody that feels alive.
(Melody crescendos) *Whispers* You feel it too, don't you? The music's calling... not just to souls tonight, but to something much darker. Our symphony's next movement isn't just ours to write.
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