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"Are you coming?" she asked, a spark of defiant magic dancing on her fingertips. "Or are you going to wait until the tea in your cup turns into a paperweight?"

Nadezhda stood up, her leather duster clicking with the weight of a dozen hidden gadgets. She knew the trail would lead to the Frozen Wastes, where the exiled necromancers practiced their 'cold' arts. They wanted the heart to power a perpetual winter, a world where machines wouldn't overheat and secrets stayed frozen. "Are you coming

"I told you, Captain," she said, her voice cutting through the hiss of the steam pipes. "The clockwork heart in the Great Tower wasn’t stolen by thieves. It was seduced." "Are you coming?" she asked