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... t-lived. Gereon had just finished convincing himself that a cigar and a nap counted as ’strategic recovery’ when the air shifted again — this time sharper, colder, like the world itself had sucked in a breath. He glanced up at the fractured cathedral spire, and sure enough, three silhouettes stood against the half-broken skyline.
"Wonderful," Gereon muttered, kicking a loose head aside; the blood had started to dry. "They’ve upgraded from dramatic solo entrances to ensemble performances. ...
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