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... living terror wracked his mind, driving him to gibber and froth, his once handsome face nothing but a sick caricature of itself. What had that devil done to him? “Brother. Speak to me. What do you see? What torments you so? Your wounds are healed. The scars, while severe, will fade with time and bloodline advancements.”

“It comes! Devil! Wings! Hide! Must hide . . .” he turned and buried his face in the mattress, pulling his wet sheets toward his golden, hairless skull.

Pazra whi ...

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