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Chapter 15 - THE WHISPER OF REDEMPTION

Marlo reached her hand through the heavy iron bars of the Silver-Wing's cage, exactly as she had done with Nyx weeks ago.

The Silver-Wing snapped its jaws shut inches from her fingers, the rush of air cold against her skin. Marlo didn't flinch. She kept her arm steady, her palm open, her breathing slow and measured.

"I know what they did to you," Marlo whispered, her voice echoing in the gloomy vault. "I know how much it hurts when they force you to move."

The silver dragon froze, its glowing purple eyes locking onto Marlo. For months, human hands had brought only pain, heavy hammers, and cold iron. But this hand carried no weapons—only warmth and the unmistakable scent of dragon-moss.

Slowly, hesitantly, the Silver-Wing leaned forward, pressing its cool, snout lightly against Marlo's palm. A faint, shiver ran through its massive body as it let out a soft, trembling sigh.

"Alistair, hand me the tension wrenches," Marlo requested quietly.

Alistair worked quickly, picking the lock on the outer gate while Marlo kept the dragon calm. Within ten minutes, the heavy iron brace holding the Silver-Wing’s damaged wing collapsed to the floor with a loud clang.

The dragon flexed its wing tentatively, letting out a low sound that sounded almost like relief.

"Now for Nyx," Marlo said, turning toward Block Nine's central hub.

"Wait," Alistair said, listening closely. "Guards. Coming from the upper catwalks."

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Heavy boots echoed above them. Warden Drake stood on the iron balcony, holding a heavy crossbow, flanked by twelve armored guards carrying specialized dragon-capture nets.

"I knew you couldn't resist playing the hero, Ashdown," Drake shouted down, his brass mask gleaming maliciously. "Stealing Imperial property from a high-security facility carries a summary execution order!"

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