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... voice barely registered.
To Keiser, it arrived as though carried by the lingering echo of Aisha’s sigils-- distorted, crackling, sharp-edged like shrapnel tearing through skin and bone, ringing in his ears, dissonant and distant, nearly drowned beneath the roar of searing pain.
He could scarcely think.
He was too busy choking on his own blood--thick, warm, copper-laced. It coated his tongue, filled the gaps between his teeth, and poured down his throat in suffocating wav ...
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