CEREBUS
Cerebus hovered between them, growling softly if the woman shifted too fast.
Dr. Voss laid a canvas scroll on the table. She unrolled it with care, revealing not a map, but something stranger — constellations inked in red, lines like veins, fragments of languages Ellie had never seen.
“Most people think Cerberus — the original — died when the gods vanished,” Voss began. Her voice carried the weight of old lectures, sharpened by obsession. “But that’s not true. He was never killed. He was… recycled.”
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