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Chapter 79: Static Theology
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... . Which was absurd, really. A train full of criminals, mercenaries, and half-feral demigods rumbling through a subterranean hellscape shouldn’t have felt routine.
And yet, somehow, it did. We had checkpoints, meals that occasionally resembled food, and a conductor whose whistling had burrowed so deeply into my skull I could probably hum it in my sleep. Saints above, I’d kill for a silence that didn’t come with percussion.
Each stop we passed was easier than the last. The guards w ...
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