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... rrowed to the terrified child and the corrupted limb that was the price of her freedom. The void-scars burned with icy fire, Mammon’s whispers a seductive counterpoint to the puppet’s demand.
Give me the hand, embrace the power within it, and crush this paper abomination. Save the child AND become more.
The temptation was a physical ache, a dark gravity pulling at her soul. But beneath it, beneath the corruption’s oily promise, was a bedrock of something harder: resolve. She woul ...
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