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... .”
Once, in the square of the Tower of Babel, a place hastily built from whatever scraps could be found — humanity’s final art museum.
But there was a difference.
Unlike the exhibitions of the distant past reality, the one unfolding before my eyes was far more immense in scale.
“Did you wait long?”
“N-No, not at all.”
Sim Ah-ryun, covered head to toe in paint, grinned widely.
“In my sense of time, o-only about sixteen days have passed. Ever ...
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