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ACOLYTE 1: (lowers their metal visor) We will have it from them. We will have it now.

ACOLYTE 3: We wait, acolytes. We can afford no injury in this moment before Xundítriggar speaks.

ACOLYTE 2: Wait, acolyte?

ACOLYTE 1: We wait for what, acolyte?

ACOLYTE 3: They are Gleaners. They are welcomed nowhere. The keeps brings them in, an spit them out in distaste.

Comic Version