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"How much blood will be stained across the wastes when this all comes to an end?" He contemplated quietly, staring out into the abysmal void which hovered hungrily over the small bastion of life below it.

He wondered which would consume it first: The blackness of infinity that constantly lingered over it, or the world itself? But such thoughts only deluded him from the reality of it all: This was war, and thoughts alone could not delay the fields of blood that were soon to be.

Because war, war never changes.