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Frozen in the falling rain cemented on tower roofs, grey-faced guardians peer down into the seething shadows of eventide. Stiffened claws grip the battlements. stone wings, fanned, still, a canopy covering fierce despair, twisted limbs, and too wise eyes. They see the bloodshed far below, and hear the screams, as preditors slay their own. Your perfect justice would destroy us all were you true ly alive?
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