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... cloth over sharp edges without dulling them; she could admit to herself that sometimes she liked it.
Two skeletons at the back adjusted their grips on the litter frame together. The soft wood creak and the low hum of the Choir braided into something that felt like a normal morning in a city that didn’t exist.
Rodion worked. He didn’t wiggle. He didn’t hum. He just made a neat little flood of calibration grids and test swatches slide across the box feeds. One screen showed a gray ...
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