The terrain is more cliff than slope now, and we start to pick our way upward over boulders and exposed rock. Less than five hundred feet to the ridge. I clamber along behind Caeror, trying to grasp it. The enormity of it. No desire to believe, but it’s impossible not to, given where we are. The utter desolation around us. “So the Concurrence somehow just… killed everyone?” “From everything I understand, yes. And they will do it again. And again.” He says it softly. Pauses to lend me a hand up, then glances over my shoulder. “They didn’t just win the war here, Vis. I think they won it
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