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“Do I have to memorize each word?” Millie inquired. This tome ought to comprise no less than a hundred pages, an abundance demanding far too great a feat for her to commit to memory over the span of a single evening.

Emerie responded with an air of nonchalance, “Yes, newcomers master this odyssey in just one day. You’re as fresh as spring’s first blossom; I believe the journey won’t weary you.”

“Alright.” Millie agreed, her spirit resolute despite knowing the challenge was deliberately set to test her mettle.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon and the shadows lengthened,

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Millie delved into the book with fierce concentration. She began to dance with the words, twirling through pages, filling her mind with the roles and rituals that stretched across a hundred Leaves of paper.

Millie gently massaged her brow, a gesture of weariness in the face of the undeniable truth: indeed, the pages numbered a full hundred.

the office crowd, Millie delved deeper into memorization. Her adept memory

a hunger for knowledge and a literal hunger for sustenance. The world outside was bathed in silver starlight, but Millie’s universe was contained

revisited the office for her forgotten keys, only to find Millie steadfastly

be eleven o’clock, yet Millie persisted

own office, securing the keys. A hunch whispered that Millie possessed the capacity to master

brisk passage through her office door. Could it be that Ms. Astley

a swift whoosh brought an abrupt darkness, both within the office and along

a sensation of being consumed by its depths. Hastily, she activated her phone,

her as she navigated blindly towards the door. Once outside, guided solely by her instincts, she

and as an instinctive

hinted at meticulous power control, possibly leading to synchronized blackouts, even for the elevators. If the entire structure was plunged into darkness and her phone remained

“Millie.”