It was pathetic, seeing her crawl from the wreckage and pull
herself to her feet with her sword. I laughed as I stepped off from my hoverthrone,
and rubbed my fingers together, forming a ball of pure agony to make sure her
death was as painful as it was drawn out.
I would have thrown it, but then she began to pray, and I
couldn’t help but laugh even harder.
“You think your God will protect you now? You-“
Then the sniper bullet removed most of my brain. I think I
heard her radio someone called ‘Faith’ before I died…
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