PREVIEW
... ulled off the VR visor.
The simulation faded from his senses like mist lifting off a battlefield. Ghosts gone. Screams gone. The banquet of the damned nothing more than faint heat in his palms and a low ring in his ears.
He blinked.
The ceiling above him wasn’t some haunted crypt, but sleek, cream-toned leather with dim overhead lighting. The quiet hum of engines reminded him where he actually was.
Private jet.
Cruising at 42,000 feet.
Still thirty ...
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