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... it always did.
Like breath on glass. There one moment, gone the next, leaving only the knowledge behind — permanent, integrated, filed into the architecture of what he was the way a new room gets added to a house you already live in.
He didn’t look at the notifications long.
He’d learned in his previous life that the system was bookkeeping. Useful bookkeeping, the kind that told you where you stood, but the numbers didn’t matter as much as what you did with them.
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