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... nical hum of an ether-car this time, but the slow, rhythmic breath of waves meeting stone. The air smelled different too - cleaner, heavy with salt, threaded with sunlight, and something warm that had nothing to do with power grids or palace wards.
His body still ached, but it was no longer screaming. More like a dull, manageable soreness. The analgesics had done their job, much to his irritation. He had argued, of course. Gregoris had looked at him like he looked at poorly planned opera ...
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