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... hrough the side entrance, still looking slightly grim after her conversation with Sepphirothy in the garden of Cabernet’s mansion. She entered through the kitchen, smelling a faint scent of fermented barley in the air.
Beer?
She turned her head slowly and incredulously toward the living room... and froze at the door.
There was Morrigan.
The Celtic goddess of chaos, death, war, and fertility—dressed in a baggy soccer jersey that wasn’t even hers, her bare feet thro ...
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