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Chapter 1944: Solidified
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Chapter 1946: Mirrored Space
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... calmly.
Control could mean a lot of things.
Sylas swiped his scythe through the air. The wind almost screeched in separating as though the whines and tears of billions were streaking across it.
Control could mean sitting at the peak and looking down on everything there was. But even that could come in differing flavors. It was possible to sit on such a throne by an iron fist alone, or maybe to sit upon it through the force of one's intelligence, or one's wealth, or one's ...
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