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... It crept over the ridge like a fog made of dry bones and smug intentions, coiling in slow, deliberate lines where it didn't belong. The Verge didn't usually stir like that. Nothing moved that smoothly out here unless it had marching orders and enough boots to make the system twitch.
I didn't say anything at first. Just stood on the trench wall, squinting through the heat shimmer as my claws scraped idle patterns into the lip of the stone.
Then the system pinged.
[Enemy De ...
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