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... into the vastness of its tenebrous body. The mighty black tendrils binding its limbs had already been assimilated, tearing as the towering giant broke free of their hold.

So were the lower segments of the Puppeteer's legs - four of its legs, at least, which had been thrust into Condemnation's chest. The giant moth let out a peculiar clicking sound as its limbs snapped, rivers of eerie black ichor flowing out of the awful wounds like a tide. Everywhere the drops of dark liquid fell, the sl ...

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