For the thirty thousand millionth time or so, the (former) Lieutenant walks along the beach, looking for a way off this crazy island.
"Beebending," he spits, shaking his head.
For once, he's alone out here. No magicians, no psychics, no "heroes" in eye-searingly bright, skintight garments, no grey kids with horns. No damned beebenders, and today
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Comments 46
"This whole place is crawling with freaks who can bend things that shouldn't even be bendable. Thoughts, shadows, bees... You'll fit right in."
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"I'm...sorry," he whispers.
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Well. He thought he'd had nothing left, and he was right.
But why had the Lieutenant saved him?
He...he's dizzy and becoming dizzier. He'll take a nap, and the Lieutenant won't kill him in his sleep, and he won't think of his brother or his life's work or his closest friend until he awakens.
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