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... king of the clock’s second hand. A cigarette burned away at his fingertips, but he didn’t seem to care much. A pile of barely-smoked cigarette butts had already accumulated at his feet. He leaned forward, staring at the rising smoke.
‘Mariv is dead.’
And he died hanging in the sky while Gale was asleep.
At first, he couldn’t believe it. Wasn’t it ‘that’ Mariv? The object of contempt who seemed like he would oppress Gale forever. It felt strange to realize that even Mariv ...
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