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Nora's EndSo it's time.
It's funny. Given the circumstances, a long recount of my life would be expected, yet such ramblings feel so empty and wasteful now. Besides, there is not nearly enough time for that and to do so earlierif I foresaw this in timewould have been distracting. I'll take what little I can get.
You made my dreams come true, McLovin. In the waters of Seablue, with how strong the Seablue Current was, I could never reach my true potential. I wanted to so much yet the trainers I met not only preferred more popular Pokémon such as Babos but also didn't have the ability to even get me to evolve. Before you caught me, I settled on laying waste to every rookie trainer's team I happened by until I slowly grew powerful enough to escape Seablue's confines. I wonder how many times I repeated that in the cycle . . .
But I reached it; I reached it and more. Not only did I evolve, you helped me grow strong enough to defend the team and you against legitimate threats, such as
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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