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Chapter Eighty-Seven: A Word of Advice
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... madness.
Itzpapalotl had warned us that the Third Layer’s damned souls underwent an eternal cycle of rebirth, and I soon witnessed it unfold beneath the clouds. A rift first opened up to split the desolate lands devastated by the goddess’ hurricane, and hills with maws of sharp fangs soon vomited up a river of green poison to fill it. I could smell its hideous stench of rot and corpses all the way from the sky above. Immense fish soon arose from beneath the surface, but when they opened ...
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