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... wning in blood.
Miles dropped to his knees as soon as he got near his best friend, his little brother, catching his fall, the world narrowing to the boy’s trembling frame.
Dee’s hands were raised, still glowing faintly with the echo of his [Holy Light], but it was fading fast, the color bleeding out into nothingness.
"Hey, hey-Diego-" Miles grabbed his shoulders, but his hands came away slick. The boy’s clothes were soaked in red, torn, and seared where the stitched-eyed ...
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