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PREVIEW
... ids reflexively shot open.
It probably was because the last thing I remembered was stabbing my sword into Moby Dick’s head; before my rational mind could take over, my instincts took over, already assessing my surroundings.
What I saw around me was as follows: white stone walls and ceiling, blue tapestries hanging on them here and there, each embroidered with a unique pattern in gold, a cozy bed, and blankets.
Given my experience from this adventure thus far, there was a ...
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