At present: Dead Air #2 is a fucking mess, pardon my french.
It's time for some delicate surgery.
In the interests of providing a coherent narrative and not wasting your time with repetitive filler, a whole bunch of it has to go.
Join me in bidding a fond, fatal farewell to pages 6 and 7, which offer nothing whatsoever to the story except a glimpse of what everybody's hair used to look like:
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