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Summary
Lash is holding up two worn leather cords from which dangle cheap hunks of translucent white quartz, one apiece. They sway from his fist hypnotically, and Abrams once again finds himself actually listening to this moron.
“So you see the benefits,” Lash goes on. “It’s totally gonna protect us both in the ritual.”
“Why do you need someone else?” Abrams asks, entirely against his will.
“That’s just how it works. You can’t charge the crystal alone. That would be weird.”
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