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12.10.2026, 15:26
Leo stood over the printout, pressing the curling edge of the sheet against the scratched aluminum top of the folding table. The table’s steel edge was cool, while the paper strip was still warm. He read line by line — lines that should not have existed. Mbul Benga, twenty-one years old, a miner and insurgent, a patient from the red zone — was recovering. His temperature had dropped to thirty-seven point eight. Liver enzymes were leveling out. White blood cell counts were falling
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