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... loated form. A shapeless mass of dark water and black slime, thrashing through the garden. There was neither sense nor direction to her attacks. Just a blind unleashing of powers new and foreign. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
The cracking of wood was only drowned out by her terrible song. A cracked echo of her beautiful voice echoed through the night, a disharmonious cacophony like shattered glass. In every note laid the invitation to step into what she had become and join what she was becoming.
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