11/02/2026 00:15

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The route-map flashed bright red. Reynolds and Depape exchanged a glance, then reholstered their guns. I’ll have no more. In the alley.

First time in a long time. “You’re going to feel metal on your wrists,” Lengyll said. Perhaps because it was almost sane. Time puts gray in your beard, time takes away your jump-shot, and all the while you’re thinking—silly you—that it’s still on your side.