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The black substance surged forward. It was warm, enveloping the Drifter’s legs, his torso, rising to his neck. He gasped, panic flaring for a moment, but The Top placed a hand on his forehead.

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Perched atop the highest spire of the Obsidian Citadel, the one known only as watched over her domain. She was the apex of the hierarchy, the undisputed master of the "Smudge"—the viscous, living substance that flowed through the pipes and veins of the city. The black substance surged forward