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Which would've been easier, somehow. A scream you could treat. A scream meant pain was still tethered to the body.
Instead, he just grunted as the detonation wave hit, stumbled backward with half the trench wall sliding after him, and folded like a tent with no poles.
Embergleam was already moving. I was three steps behind her. Splitjaw said something sharp—orders probably, couldn't hear—and Quicktongue's call echoed from the fallback tunnel in a pattern I didn't want to tra ...
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