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... . Admiration, warning, and something else—something deeper—threaded through her tone like silk through steel.
Atlas stood, crossing to his desk. He pulled out a rolled parchment—creased and torn at the edges—and spread it over the surface. A map of Berkimhum, annotated in red ink, black charcoal, and bloodstains that had never been fully scrubbed away.
"We lack speed," he said. "The latest reports... they crossed the mountain range already. That’s near impossible. They’re using s ...
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