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... rom me wasn’t breathing right again.
What are you? I wondered for the dozen times, watching him hold his sword with technical perfection. What ancient being crawled into that body and decided to play human?
The crowd’s whispers washed.
He tilted his head, a movement too smooth, and calculated. Those crimson eyes held amusement but no warmth.
The sun balanced on the horizon, painting everything the color of old blood. In moments, we’d begin our pointless display of ...
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