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... you’re covered in scratches, wearing your newly acquired clothes—now torn—mana drained, and a girl screaming somewhere in the distance like she’s about to become a tragic statistic, the problem gains a face and a name (and that name wasn’t mine).
I ran without thinking, only the sound of my own breathing in my ears and my eyes trying to pierce through the shadows. The trees seemed to lean closer with every step, and the ground beneath me felt like it could open up and swallow me whole at ...
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