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“Do they Still sing songs of my victory?” August choked. “They do. And they’ll crescendo like beacons to the farthest reaches. With every new breath of life that forms in a world without darkness that came at the price of your hands and your mind.” — K. Ancrum
Do they Still sing songs of my victory?” August choked.
“They do. And they’ll crescendo like beacons to the farthest reaches. With every new breath of life that forms in a world without darkness that came at the price of your hands and your mind.