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... nce, chaos clung to him: ink smeared his face, ash dusted his clothes, and soggy papers littered the floor.
Still, he remained focused, paying no mind to the mess around him. He kept writing until, at last, he scrawled the final rune. As the ink settled, a brilliant glow bloomed, illuminating the room.
His once-tense expression lit up with hope—only for that hope to be dashed.
Boom!
Clayton flinched, quickly shielding his face with a nearby object ...
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