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Chapter 60: Silent Opression
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Chapter 62: The Shape of Damnation
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... de thoughts sharp enough to slice your own throat if you weren’t careful. I sat with my back to the wall, elbows resting on my knees, staring at a puddle that hadn’t rippled in hours.
The stone beneath me was cold in a way that felt personal, like the Tower itself was taking petty revenge on my ass bones for even daring to think. My fingers traced idle circles over the grime on the floor as my mind ran itself into corners, doubled back, and found nothing but the same dead ends waiting li ...
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