Zero sheathed her sword, breathing heavily. The corruption in the air settled, leaving only the scent of rust.
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She knelt, prying the metal casing open with the tip of her sword. Inside, the normally smooth flow of mana was jagged, compressed into a chaotic slurry. It was a repacked mess of stolen songs and butchered verses. Zero sheathed her sword, breathing heavily
When the haze cleared, the soldier was gone. In his place was a twitching, smooth sphere of iron—a "crash" in the physical world. Zero sheathed her sword