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... the sewer, the sound echoing off the crumbling walls. The air was thick—decay, mildew, and something metallic that clung to the back of her throat.
Her burnt hand throbbed, but she clutched the communicator tighter, the edges digging into her palm. She didn't care.
The call had been made.
The last lifeline had been cast.
And now, all she could do was pray it didn't snap.
The man's voice still echoed in her mind—calm, measured, almost too casual for the we ...
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