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... ell of blood permeated the chilly air. It clashed horribly with the smell of burnt flesh; the sound that dominated the air was that of blades slicing through flesh. And the sound of a bursts of plasma tearing through the air, melting snow.
Lucinda’s hand tightly gripped onto a blade of her own, a simple traditional katana. Her eyes glossed over the bodies of some townspeople; plasma had ripped through their flesh, and their expressions were stuck in that of horror. The buildings and hous ...
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