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... the cold logic, the way he broke down his friends into tools, the way he reduced their bond into political liabilities — it burned in his chest like molten iron. His fists clenched. His breathing turned sharp. His heart screamed to act.

And then he moved.

Keith surged forward with a roar, his foot cutting through the air in a high, spiraling kick aimed directly at Elius’s temple. But Elius didn’t even flinch. He tilted his head slightly — barely — and the kick passed just shy of ...

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