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... of each round blurred them into streaks of death, but my blade was faster. Ayuru whistled through the air, its edge cleaving through metal like paper, splitting the bullets before they could reach me. My body moved instinctively, each slash a desperate act of survival, my muscles burning from the sheer speed required to keep up with the never-ending barrage.
Time itself seemed to slow, my mind accelerating to perceive every detail—each bullet's trajectory, the shifting shadows, the sharp ...
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