The flash of purple lightning didn’t just split the sky; it illuminated the towering, paper-fleshed monstrosity standing on the yellow line of Route 9 with a sickening, chemical brilliance.CRACK-THOOM.The thunder that followed wasn’t a sound; it was a loud crash of a heavy iron press falling into place. The smell of pine needles and asphalt disappeared instantly, replaced by a strong acidic smell of ink remover, hot zinc plates and a burning carbon smell from a big furnace."Julian, don't look at it, " Elara said, her voice shaking. She grabbed his jacket sleeves trying to pull him across the wet pavement.The entity standing in the headlights of their car didn’t have a face. Its towering, seven-foot frame was constructed entirely out of thousands of layers of tightly wound, yellowed galley proofs, old, rejected iterations of their own history that fluttered and hissed against the freezing downpour. Where its chest should have been, lines of dark blue text shifted and squirmed
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