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... orange orb that painted the arena in the color of old blood. The crowd was a living thing, a single, multi-throated beast of anticipation, its roars and whispers washing over us in a hot, sticky wave. They had come for blood, for honor a story to tell around their fires. They would get none of those things.
"Ready to get this over with?" I asked, my voice flat, the sound swallowed by the din.
"After you," Yukiko replied, her voice a cool, steady current in the ocean of noise. Sh ...
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