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... ty little ant..." he growled, the words thick with blood and spite.

He spat. It wasn’t just blood, it was clotted, blackish sludge, like a clot torn from deep within his lungs. "...That almost worked."

His voice didn’t sound painful. It sounded hungry. His wounds quivered. And something beneath the ruined skin... began to stir.

Akayoroi’s claws clenched. "Vel. Shae. Naaro from the blade front."

They emerged behind her, wounded but standing. Only fifteen of the ori ...

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