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Chapter 129 - 128: A Place for Pain
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Chapter 131 - 130: Art Is Not Perfection
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... y on the ground, limbs splayed, eyes closed.
He was done.
Not "He needs a nap" done — done done.
Like someone who’d sprinted through the entirety of art history barefoot, bled onto every medium, and been critiqued by the ghosts of dead masters. His soul felt wrung out. He had scraped paint from cracked palettes, mixed pigments in dusty basins, carved marble with blistered fingers, thrown ink like spells, and dodged arrows in a battlefield led by da Vinci’ ...
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