"Death is easy," Hel states with absolute certainty, stalking over to the large obsidian chair that can only be described as throne, falling into it with a huff. "Coming back is when things get tricky." Ivy stares at her, gritting her teeth. "But I'm NOT DEAD, Hel," she insists, her frustration showing clearly through her words. Hel's dark brown eyes scan her form. She slumps further in her chair, lacing her fingers over her stomach. "I wish I could confirm that, but..." She shakes her head...
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