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... is is actually going to work?"
On Sakaar, Hela lounged on the rooftop of a house Grandmaster had assigned her, sipping the planet’s signature wine. The breeze caressed her face, soft and warm, as she tilted her head at a forty-five-degree angle to gaze at the stars scattered across the sky. The night was stunning.
Too bad Lothar couldn’t read the room.
He’d barged in without so much as a knock, flying straight up to the roof to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with her, flipping ...
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