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The author sits down and thinks to himself. He sits there for a while, contemplating what to say. This new thread he had just read reminded him that he infact, wasn't a real person. Merely a strange idea of a young boy which has grown in it's power, now being a whole new conciousness. So, he merely gets up, takes the letter which had fallen through his door earlier from Urgeok and puts it to the candle.
The dancing orange flame licks at the paper, eventually catching and consuming it in a blaze, destroying the pure whiteness and only leaving a crumbling ash. He will carry on living in blissful denial...for now at least.
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