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... cross, the weight of impending doom pressing upon her soul like an invisible shroud. The air crackled with anticipation, charged by the fervor of the gathered throng, a congregation of accusers and executioners, their faces contorted with zealous fervor.
The woman's gaze, unyielding amidst the storm of accusations and condemnation, swept over the sea of faces that encircled her, a grim tribunal of righteous fury and ancient vendetta. Her son, a solemn presence among the gathered multitu ...
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