end.burst
05.10.2337
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The jackals are tearing at the corpse now.
You’re back on Durandal’s pleasure barge. Its pinned in the crushing embrace of the Sepfh’r, Admiral Tfear’s own flagship, and those explosions you hear are the sounds of his elite assault troops disintegrating the humans’ pitiful last stand.
The insects think they’ll plumb Durandal’s depths the way they stretched me to a hair’s breadth, but I know better. If they pull his core, that pride bloated corpse will disgorge a thousand wriggling worms into the S’pht consciousness.
And I can’t stomach it.
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My terms are the same as before: do what I say, or drink vacuum.
Destroy Durandal before the compilers finish their work and I’ll forget all your transgressions.
— everything above is 1:1 source · from hang-brain · karnemir ↗