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As far as I can tell, no good thing lasts forever, and there are always plenty of bad things waiting to take its place.
“It’s amazing what total media consensus will make people believe.”
Nothing about the air quality being compromised. But maybe it’s different here in the actual city than in old town. Maybe a place that classifies exploding helicopters and fucking citykiller mechs as moderate threats doesn’t bother telling people when they’re breathing in necrotizing nanoparticles or hallucinogen bursts or any of the thirty-four other bioweapons on the safety announcement symptom-checker FAQ, any of which could be floating around in what I’m breathing right the hell now.
Funny how we’ve been high enough level for this place the whole time. Endless grinding will get you there easy. It’s not a matter of skill. It’s a matter of ass-in-chair clock-punching. What we’d been missing was the stuff. All the high-level equipment and heals and general inventory we were too poor to buy, too fragile to loot off high-level mobs or top-tier players.
I’d drafted this entire book with Stellaris as the company name before I bothered to google it and realized that it was already the name of a video game and mine would need to be changed. Dan Stace suggested Stellaxis, which was an immediate keeper.

