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Description
A white-hot streak marred the sky like a blade through flesh and made its presence upon the earth known with a deafening crash. You'd seen it from base, seen it from the tinted windows of the van, seen it as the man on your right nudged you.
"Ugly thing, aint it?" The man spoke, looking up at the residual light across the sky. He was right.
It always was.
"Well, time for another easy grab." He huffed, putting his rifle over his shoulder and following the half a dozen other men up the hill.
It never was.
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