Seneca: loses Lucan in the middle of a crowd
Nero: where is he
Seneca: I have an idea
Seneca, yelling: BLOOD! GHOSTS! GORE! NECROMANCERS! PHARSALIA NOSTR-
Lucan, levitating above the crowd, surrounded by a ominous purple glow, his toga torn and shredded and his eyes like bottomless pits of darkness: Ṗ̴̰̯͔̅͊͝͝H̸̼̻̥͇͈̀A̴̲̯̯̟̼̎͛̀R̶̡̦̙̩͝S̷̭̤̰̲̿Ā̵̹̠̤̜L̸̨͊I̸̳̖̓̓A̸̛̫̪ ̶̪͕̥̻̟͗̋N̸͉̝̈́́͗Ö̷̯̱̭̤̖͋̋S̸̡̳̈́͝T̷̞̈́̓R̶̩̜̲͆A̶̛̺̪̿́̈́͝ ̵̡̼̺̥̈́̿V̸̫̆͂̌Ḯ̵̒̚ͅV̸͖̱͕͋̃͋́̚E̸̮͐̈́̇͜T̴͔̅͘
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