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... een." The Fallen walked toward us.

His grey fingers reached out, gently lifting Sera's chin.

"You've got a nice figure." He licked his lips. I could smell his breath up this close.

Sera, however, didn't flinch.

I could feel her anger—burning, growing with every second.

The Fallen chuckled. "But it's such a shame." He let go of her face, turning his back to her.

"...'He' doesn't wish for your death. Nor does 'He' wish for you to be harmed."

...

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