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... Gormona, wiped his sweaty palms on his velvet pants. It didn’t help. He sat in a waiting room, his slow brain churning at an entirely unusual speed. There weren’t many things in this world that could unsettle his rock-like intellect, but ever since discovering the powered-on artifact in his favored room of hiding, it had been steadily becoming a common occurrence.
Poseidon’s oiled back hair, how long is he going to make me wait?
Trent had mostly kept his calm at all the messages ...
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