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Chapter 617: The Oppressive Sense of Orbital Bombardment
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Chapter 619: Pronouncing Your Death Sentence!
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... mployee at that moment.
As the plasma lances pierced the atmosphere, the rain-soaked clouds vaporized in an instant. The sky caught fire, everything lit ablaze as if the heavens themselves were burning.
Crimson—the color of the sun.
Even with filtered respirators, the scorching orange-red glow seared the faces of everyone within Bridgehead Outpost Base. The very air they breathed rolled like heatwaves, stifling and unbearable.
Instinctively, many closed their eyes ...
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