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... and pulse echoing in her ears. Blood, dark and thick, stained her hand, dripping onto the frost—a stark contrast to the pale, unforgiving landscape. Her hand throbbed, but the cold numbed the pain enough for her to ignore it. She couldn't afford to show weakness now.
Before her stood four Shikiban, their presence suffocating, a crushing weight in the storm. Their hollow eyes burned with disdain, but there was something else—hunger. They circled her, the air heavy with malevolence.
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