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... ecause it had told him, but because names gave shape to the formless. Because the thing he saw when he first entered the Prophet of Death state needed to be called something—anything—other than himself.

Because he wasn’t sure if it was a vision, a fragment of his own soul, or something else wearing his face when it didn’t wear darkness.

It hadn’t spoken often.

In fact, it rarely acknowledged him.

But when it did recently, it repeated only one phrase:

When ...

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