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... austion in Lucian’s stance, the tremor in his raised hand. This was a formality. An annoyance.

"You are a ghost trying to block a hurricane," Alistair said, his voice layered with the whispers of the Vault’s escaped horrors. He didn’t even bother with a fighting stance. He simply began to gather the dark, swirling energy around him, ready to obliterate his son with a single, contemptuous blast.

But then, a soft chime echoed in Lucian’s mind.

[System Notice: Health and Man ...

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