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... his eyes. He was still lying on a hard wooden plank bed, in a narrow, pitch-black room that reeked of must.
Nothing had changed in the slightest.
He propped himself up with his hands and tapped his head. His eyes stared blankly at a single spot, as if he were in a daze.
The page of the Celestial Book, covered in tiny, tadpole-like script, slowly materialized, its surface shimmering with an iridescent glow.
’Good, good. It wasn’t a dream. Now I just have to wait tw ...
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