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Chapter 2: The Weight of Memory
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... eath him, pooling around his ruined leg where the bone punched through his pants in a mess of dark red and exposed meat.
’Well, that’s bad,’ he thought, and almost laughed before the pain cut him off.
Floor 75, the Summit of Despair, because apparently the Tower couldn’t resist giving everything a dramatic name. Bodies littered the platform around him, climbers who spent years getting strong enough to reach this place only to die in the first thirty seconds when that thing ripped ...
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