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Once papers were signed, people seemed to give up. It was a strange sort of magic.
“I don’t know why we even bother having wars,” muttered Slate. “The world’s trying to kill us fast enough as it is.”
“Oh, come on, if your friends aren’t willing to strangle you, what kind of friends are they?” asked Brenner.
Everyone looked at Slate. Shit, do I have to be in charge again?
