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POV: you just entered the White Witch’s courtyard.
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Mine, all mine!
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That castle on a hill.
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Hammerhead vulturebats.
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Not long for this world.
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Roadside unattraction.
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In the shadow of the ringworld.
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That old familiar feeling.
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It’s the 24th century. You belong to the richest interstellar mercenary company in the Settled Systems. You are stationed on a moon base overlooking a habitable world, centuries after the fall of Earth. An enemy approaches, their souped-up laser rifle and inexplicable cosmic powers turning your friends into memories without so much as breaking a sweat.
So, naturally, you’ll want to charge at them with an axe.
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Shroudhead newt.
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Wheelin’ and dealin’.
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Meta-terrormorph-osis.
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Power to the people.
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Surgeon’s (virtual) photograph.
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Perspective’s a funny thing.
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