Viktor von Carstein could feel his spectral form take form...
He could feel the soft warmth of Sylvannian soil...
The smell of scented oils that lined his wooden coffin permeated his senses...
With the return of his senses also marks the return of his sentience...
And the bitter taste of defeat. And the choking sensation of anger...
He will have his revenge. And time is on his side....
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