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... ght on his skin.
The clown’s gaze wasn’t sharp or soft, it was the kind of look that made you feel like your soul was being measured grain by grain.
Ravan tried to read him, tried to sense even a hint of his intention, but the man behind the mask stayed a blank page.
After a moment of silence, Ravan spoke again, voice firm and dripping with arrogance.
"Clown... are you going to take part in the war?"
He said it like he was asking whether someone wanted tea ...
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