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... uffling the papers in front. Daiyu stared down, a pen in- her hands? It was not an image... More like, a recording made of pinkish light.
Daiyu looked up from the papers on the desk; she was sat in some sort of office, white sleeves down her thin arms till her wrists. She was seeing through, circular spectacles?
That doesn’t make sense, Daiyu never needed glasses. Daiyu brought her head up and looked to her left... Daiyu blinked, but whatever she was seeing blinked a second after ...
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