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... Coffee-stained. Handmade. Bound together with rough rope that looked like it could fall apart at any moment.
’Rei’s journal.’
His fingers brushed the cloth cover. Gentle. Almost afraid.
Because inside this book was probably everything. Every answer. Every secret. Everything he’d ever wanted to know about the voice that had lived inside his head for years.
And for some reason, that terrified him more than the idea of killing some god.
The handwriting wasn’t ...
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