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Summary
The first time Viktor opened his eyes, it was during a storm.
Jayce would remember that night forever—the way the lightning tore apart the sky just as the body on the stretcher lurched, gasped, and then went still. The glass vials shuddered in their clamps. The hexcore pulsed once, dimmed, and then held steady. And the man… the man breathed.—
Or: Jayce Talis creates life with the hexcore.
