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[All that posts is a single word, painted onto a nondescript wall in unpleasant-looking mud.]







[It's Enochian for "Grace." The PCD doesn't translate because it's only a picture. Raphael needs to ask a question, but the world doesn't need to know.]







[It's Enochian for "Grace." The PCD doesn't translate because it's only a picture. Raphael needs to ask a question, but the world doesn't need to know.]
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[Yeah, that's it. Coords. Death is not speaking of this shit over the network.]
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But... they get there. Staring. Panting.]
Death. [No no no no no.]
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[There's few enough things that truly get under his skin. Being forced into this place where death has no true meaning? That managed it. And now being rendered little more than human? It both fascinates and annoys him, and annoyance is winning.] Of course, it's fair to say the entirety of the city was affected. [He'd felt it, for just a second: the swelling of the chaos before finding himself powerless.]
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It isn't just them.]
Then this is an event, and it will pass.
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