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Chapter Two Hundred Forty-Five: 'O, fledgling commander, falter not...'
The reapers all turned to look at Hector. None of the Rainlord heads were immediately present. They were all either asleep or Dimas Sebolt, the man with chronic insomnia.
It wouldn't take long for the reapers to fetch them, of course, but judging by the expressions on all these skeletal faces, they were expecting him to step up and do or say something first.
...
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