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... ely a wisp of white breath escaping his lungs as he drew in what little precious air lingered in the snowy peak. The mountains were deceptively taller than they appeared from the ground, the statues reaching two hundred feet high. Shaking off the bits of snow on his helmet, Oscar reached out and scraped the snow off the base of the statue, unveiling a toe. Like Volten's treasury, the stone appeared stuck in time with no blemish or crack, as if freshly carved rather than standing for the countles ...

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