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... my stance, keeping my eyes locked on the puppet. My muscles ached from the earlier hits, but I ignored the pain. The generated Essence pulsed inside me, responding to my will, waiting to be shaped.

The goal was clear, form the technique mid-fight. If I couldn't pull it off under pressure, then what was the point? But the puppet wasn't about to stand still and let me figure it out.

It moved.

Within three lunges it was in front of my face.

A blur of motion, its fis ...

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