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... od together at the fractured crossroads of 45th and Lexington. Above them, the rift widened, its edges pulsing with unstable light. And around them, the roars of an approaching horde echoed louder with every second.
Steve looked around at the assembled group. His eyes passed over mages and mutants, witches and warriors, gods and soldiers. Some were breathing hard. Some bore fresh wounds. Some had blood on their hands — not theirs, but that of friends, of strangers, of the innocent.
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