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... known only to smugglers, shepherds, and men who ran from fires they couldn’t put out. I took them at a dead sprint until my breath burned, then settled into a pace I could hold—one foot in front of the other, heart hammering, mind stripped down to numbers and angles and time. The city fell away behind me, screams thinning, smoke flattening into a low bruise against the sky. Moonrise crept closer with every step, a pale promise sharpening at the edge of the clouds.
The first sign that th ...
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