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... iling as if listening for a sound only he could hear.

A stub of graphite rested between two fingers, a thread for his map hung from the pin he’d meant to place.

The prosthetic lay on the bench beside him, quiet and open. He snored once - soft, surprised - then settled.

Raizen eased the door closed behind him.

The Underworks’ night wasn’t a real night, but it did a good imitation.

Raizen let the faint sounds fill his mind and slipped down a corridor that se ...

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