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... left the fake Vastro’s mouth, and the air itself seemed to bend. Pressure magnified infinitely, crashing down until Vastro slammed hard into the ground, cracking the very structure beneath him.

He gritted his teeth, a flicker of amusement stirring. The bastards treated him exactly how he would have reacted if someone had barged into his throne room.

The fake Vastro’s blazing blue eyes locked onto him. "Who are you? Why do you look like me? Which foolish usurper is confident enoug ...

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