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... un that swayed slightly in the icy wind. The bustling city stretched below her, a labyrinth of glowing lights and movement. Her sharp eyes scanned the streets, and she sniffed the air as a chill ran through her.

"A storm is approaching," she muttered.

The biting winter winds bit at her exposed midriff, the price of wearing her usual crop top beneath an open jacket. She had paired it with long jeans, a compromise between practicality and her stubborn sense of style. Alicarde had a ...

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