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And
as
the
Strangefolk
mined
deeper
and
deeper
into
the
mountain,
holes
began
to
appear.
Bringing
with
them
a
cold
and
bitter
wind
that
chilled
the
very
soul
of
the
Monkey.
For
the
first
time,
the
Happyfolk
felt
fearful,
for
they
knew
the
Monkey
would
soon
stir
from
its
deep
sleep.
And
then
came
a
sound,
distant
first.
It
grew
into
castrophany,
so
immense
it
could
be
heard
far
away
in
space.
There
were
no
screams,
there
was
no
time.
The
mountain
called
Monkey
had
spoken,
there
was
only
fire.
And
then,
nothing.
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