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... ad ashes scattered over it, swept by the howling wind.
In the end, there is a certain deathly grayness, everything appears so sorrowful.
Two monstrous figures gaze at each other from afar, their expressions either indifferent or enraged.
"Dean Lawrence, where exactly did you go that night?"
The ghost inquired once more, he was the survivor of the Night of the Holy Arrival, an impossibly existing survivor.
It was truly bone-chilling cold, like a familiar fa ...
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