WHERE AM I?

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On that day, a dying sun rose above the multitude of nations. Thunderstorms raged, and the lakes ran red with blood. Boils afflicted the people, and disease spread like wildfire.

"When the sun has died," the prophecy foretold, "a lake of red will appear to the west of the city of Karr. That is the sign that the fifth angel of death has descended unto this world."

"There is no more paradise for you to escape to."

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The air echoed with the sounds of horses as a blood-stained man, draped in a black cloak, strode past a small carriage. He cast a quick glance at it, his eye reflecting weariness. With a shaved head and a missing eye, he possessed a rugged, imposing stature.

Underneath his cloak, dark armor adorned his frame, complemented by holsters strapped across his chest. These held a variety of throwing knives, some tipped with deadly poisons. Additionally, a large knife was secured in a holster on his belt.

Strangely, a living red entity coiled around his body, its head resting on his shoulder with a sucked-in mouth.

As he strode past the gates, the blood coating him drew comments from passersby, whispers following in his wake. Murmurs of shock and curiosity at the grisly sight mixed with the distant clamor of the city.

Further ahead, a pair of guards conversed in hushed tones.

"Did you hear about the decree from the Grand Vizier?" one guard asked solemnly.

"Yeah, another Opal condemned to die," replied the other guard with a shake of his head.

"Poor soul," the first guard muttered. "Everyone from that cursed race is marked for death by those demons."

"I pity her. She's just a child. Hollow and heartless, that's what they are," the second guard added bitterly.

Their eyes caught sight of the man as he walked by, his figure draped in darkness. Anger distorted their glances as they noted his presence.

"There goes another hollow," one guard spat with contempt. "Spineless bastard."

The man paid them no mind, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued on his path through the increasingly dense crowd. Two guards stood atop the gallows, a small white haired girl beneath them.

"By the decree of the Grand Vizier," announced the first guard loudly, "this Opal heretic is condemned to death for treason against the demon race. For crimes committed by her race, she shall face the blade!"

The girl, with beautiful white hair and blue eyes filled with terror, knelt silently, blood staining her lips and ragged clothing.

Just as the executioner raised the axe, BOOM! The air shattered as a massive flail burst through. The executioner's head exploded in a spray of blood and bone fragments, his body collapsing to the ground.

Before anyone could react, the flail tore through another guard's torso, ripping flesh and sending gore flying. The chain of the flail danced in the air as the man wielding it manipulated the weapon with deadly force. The flail was huge, much too large for an ordinary human to wield with such precision as this man was displaying.

The remaining guard stumbled back, fear etched on his face.

"It's him!" the guard exclaimed, panic in his voice. "Defend yourselves!"

The man continued his onslaught, the flail's chain wrapping around the final guard's neck. With a forceful pull, he brought the guard down, the chain tight around his throat.

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