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Summary
"centonis", Latin: made of old rags sewn together
That small fizzle of burning obscurus darkness that flit away as Newt glanced to the rubble, it escaped through the obliviating rain, and reformed into Credence - weakened, injured, amnesiac, furious and tired. At least Mr.Graves is with him.
(While the situation might seem a little confusing in the beginning, it's all on purpose, and I'm going somewhere with this, I promise!)
