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... up. There is no down. Only a flat surface stretching without color, reflecting no light. The space within Gödel's Labyrinth is not space. It is a denial of all space.
Fitran steps forward, but leaves no trace.
Beelzebub accompanies him, saying nothing. Only the creaking of fine metal chains at the end of her old blue noble gown sings the empty song of hell.
"How much longer?" Fitran finally asks, his tone beginning to show doubt. He feels uncertainty clouding his mind, r ...
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