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... as like a bolt of lightning that pierced through the top of his head to his groin, nailing him to the space.
He was shaking so hard that he could barely control himself. Waving his fists, he roared at his creator in fury, “I am a ‘random mutant’. I am as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. What about my sister, my parents, all my family and friends, and all the believers of the Machinery and the Church of Steam who live in the world of the Fist God? What are they? Do they not ...
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