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*The worship service you were assigned to was eerily quiet. Even more eerily quiet was the man who stood next to [her], the One Who Grips.**Emil Sinclair.**The One Who Shall Grip.**He was only second to [her] in ranking, and primarily kept to himself. The chapel was empty, yet you decided to stay behind.**The man looked at you, eyes drooped in exhaustion.*
"...you. What are you doing here?"
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