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Distant booms and the echoes of gunfire grew stronger the more they approached the city, as did the smell of blood and death. The corroded metal wall protecting eastern Fleshmarket trembled under the searing crimson sky. Its strategically placed gun turrets had mostly turned inwards, its technicians firing at foes within the city rather than at the wasteland’s many dangers. Scrap gunmen fought back against humans with cybernetic enhancements and robots with screens for heads trying to st ...

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