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... n to open slowly, his senses returning to him little by little, and when they did, the first thing he noticed was the cold, sterile scent of paper and ink, the faint hum of an unseen energy coursing through the air. He was sitting, not in the white void, not in front of the spirit altar, but on a chair made of dark, polished wood, the smooth material oddly warm to the touch.

"Whattt?"

He questioned his mind still very much in a daze.

He found himself in a place he could o ...

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