Racing the Devil’s Claim

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Chapter 115 Hundred and fifteen

The jaws of the Abyssal Leviathan didn't just close; they sealed with a pressurized, hydrostatic boom that popped our ears and plunged the world into a claustrophobic, sickly green twilight.

Inside the belly of the Mariana Trench's flagship, the air was instantly heavy, thick with the smell of ozone...

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