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The Forgotten Gate

At the end of the tunnel, they found a heavy stone gate carved with more Latin and a rusted iron handle—the same shape as the key. Carla hesitated, then slowly inserted it. It fit. A soft click echoed. The door didn’t open. But something behind it moved. A shift. A sigh. They stepped back. “It’s listening,” Eddie said. Carla wasn’t sure he was wrong.
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