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... of space.
Not flew. Not charged. Just... drifted. Like it didn’t give a damn. Like it had no destination, no fear, no rush. Like it was too important to move fast.
The ship was shaped like a crescent blade, painted in matte obsidian with crimson cracks glowing along its surface, pulsing like veins. It wasn’t designed for war. It wasn’t designed for transport either. It looked like it was built for one purpose—
To exist.
Its name was etched across its underbelly in ...
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