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... er been dreamed. It struck like a living whip, its coils wrapping around Ma'at's torso and slamming her back-first into the remains of a building.

Concrete exploded around her impact, chunks of debris raining down as the serpent's grip tightened. Ma'at felt her ribs creak under pressure that operated according to artistic rather than physical laws.

She spoke a word of cutting, trying to sever the serpent's painted reality.

But the creature had been painted with layers of ...

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