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... ruined penthouse like a physical weight. The air itself seemed to have thickened, becoming harder to breathe, harder to move through. Every shadow felt deeper, every reflection in the scattered glass sharper and more accusatory.

Charles Manson knelt on the shattered floor of what had once been his sanctuary, surrounded by the debris of his former life. Glass shards glittered beneath him like broken stars fallen from some distant heaven, each fragment catching the pale moonlight and thro ...

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