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Chapter 24 - LACK OF VISION ISN'T A PERSONALITY TRAIT, HONEY!

When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I saw wasn't a magnificent ceiling made of bone or an infinite void. No, directly above me was a cracked, damp-smelling white concrete slab that screamed, "I haven't seen a coat of paint since 1990."

My mouth?

It felt as if I'd swallowed a handful of sand from a construction site and chased it with a shot of ash. The regal voice I used to command the heavens and earth was gone; in its place was nothing but a raspy, desperate wheeze for water.

"She's awake! Oh God, she's finally awake!"

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