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... raggedly. The physical world around him felt slightly tilted, his vision swimming as the lingering echoes of Muskard’s cursed spirit slowly drained from his cerebral cortex.

He dragged a trembling sleeve across his face, aggressively wiping away the involuntary tears the psychic torture had forced out of him.

He stayed there for a long minute, just listening to the erratic thumping of his own heart, letting the cool night air soothe his burning skin.

Finally, the ringing ...

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