PREVIEW
... casings that clinked and crunched under his boots like broken glass. The air was thick with the choking stench of gunpowder, blood, and death, a miasma that clung to the back of his throat. The desolate road to South LA’s outskirts had been transformed into a nightmarish slaughterhouse, a sea of crimson-soaked asphalt littered with mangled corpses and shattered armor. The rising sun cast long, grotesque shadows, turning the scene into a tableau of hell itself—limbs torn asunder, entrails glisten ...
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