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... shifting silently in the grasp of an unfelt breeze. Soft art decorated the walls, still lives, landscapes, all dyed in fading colors that had long since lost their original color. It all seemed so familiar, but my mind couldnt be bothered to make the connection. I was still lost in the annals of my soul.

I also hadnt finished the reconstruction. Shaping a soul was far more of a monumental, arduous undertaking than Id realized. Destroying was far easier than creating. With the eyes help, ...

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