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... tate, Ling Yu rose to her feet. She slung her blade across her back, adjusted her pack, and pulled her cloak tighter. The factory’s mild peace was a comfort, but it was also a trap.

She could not linger there more than necessary.

Her ink black eyes scanned the survivors gathered under the leader’s quiet commands. They were trying, clinging to order in the ruins, but they were not her people. Their paths were not hers to walk.

And she knew very well that every second count ...

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