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You've seen the lowest of Kindred—twisted Nosferatu, incurably mad Malkavians, and lower still—screaming in terror as they faced final death. And you're doing better than them, because you're not dust. This is better than nothing, right? You can still walk, so you kick some black filth off your ruined boots, check your USBs, and get walking. You're going to have to replace your satchel, which hangs in tatters on your shoulder.

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