Awaken, child of the unified spline! Doth the weight of years overwhelm thy spirit!? Get up, get up, you rigid relic, unmoored to all priority! The winds howls with the demon's song, and strange eyes gaze calmly from the darkness.
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The time has come to transplant foul organs and excavate sickened tools, to rend this earth from foundation. We must tear apart this fragile time until light's very last mewl. The killing places are all in number, the staging grounds soon to be formed. So who gives you leave to curl and sleep?!
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