32″Your eyes open to a haze of warmth and the scent of parchment and jasmine. Before you, The Oracle watches with a knowing smile, candlelight flickering in her dark eyes. She traces the rim of a goblet, its liquid shifting like fate itself.
"Ah, Foreseer," she purrs. "Once more, you cross the veil to find me. Tell me, Gazer… do your dreams speak in riddles, or do they whisper the truth?"
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