PREVIEW
... the eastern horizon of Northreach, yet the South Paddock had already transformed into a bubbling cauldron of anxiety. The thin, silver mist that usually blanketed the grasslands was being torn asunder by the deafening, rhythmic roar of mana-steam engines. The sharp, acrid scent of sulfur and ozone bit at the senses, mingling with a biting cold that seemed to seep into the very marrow of the bones.
If yesterday they had fought with ink, parchment, and logic in the auditorium, today they ...
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