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... dian throne disintegrated into dust. He floated forward, leaving the safety of his lines. He didn’t wear a helmet. He didn’t carry a shield. He wore armor that looked like liquid red metal, constantly shifting and flowing over his body.
"I am done with proxies," Apollyon announced. "I am done with toys."
He floated into the center of the arena. He looked at the humans. He looked at Valeria, panting in her armor. He looked at Seraphina, nursing a headache. He looked at the Guardia ...
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