Time.
The withered hands of the clock creaks, I yield, as Aion's ominous voice speaks. My complacency shall exact a heavy toll, Endless Gambit — I wager thee my soul.
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The withered hands of the clock creaks, I yield, as Aion's ominous voice speaks. My complacency shall exact a heavy toll, Endless Gambit — I wager thee my soul.
Poetry Books 50% Off
Bestselling collections from top poets