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... the wall-crack, sending thought-hiss after thought-hiss towards my assembled spore-roots.

Constrict, I told the ones that rested below. The spore-roots answered, flexing their gold-blue lengths, and plant-flesh wrapped itself around the bad-things limbs. They squeezed, and though I could tell that the bad-thing was far too armored for the weaker of the Great Cores plant-flesh followers to damage, even the lowest of them could have an effect.

Together, they forced the bad-thing t ...

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