Notes
He could feel how it hated him. How it hated Kavinsky, too. How it hated the world.
It was so hungry.
Kavinsky looked at Ronan, his eyes dead. “Try to keep up, Lynch.”
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He could feel how it hated him. How it hated Kavinsky, too. How it hated the world.
It was so hungry.
Kavinsky looked at Ronan, his eyes dead. “Try to keep up, Lynch.”
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