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... her, at least.

The lower half of her body was gone, not destroyed, not torn away by brute force, but erased, cleanly and utterly, as if reality itself had decided that everything below her waist no longer deserved to exist. There was no rubble where her legs should have been.

No shattered armor.

No torn fabric.

Just absence.

Blood flowed freely from the place where existence ended, spilling across the broken earth in slow, glistening streams. It pooled be ...

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