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... ed out the window toward the grating drone of cicadas, his eyes hollow as dead ash.]
["I can’t tell which voice is the real me anymore."]
["Neither of them is the real you. Or rather, you haven’t reached that stage yet."]
[Tsukumo held up two fingers and waggled them in front of his face.]
["The you that despises non-sorcerers and the you that rejects that contempt are both just possibilities you’ve arrived at through thinking."]
["Which one becomes your t ...
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