Behold the harbinger of your ascendance,
A messenger of perfection, I commence.
Attacks are pointless, shortsighted, and weak.
I hold the power to bear you face defeat.
Oh harbinger, foretelling of your rise,
A beacon shining in the darkest skies
Perfection sought, your ascendance near,
But agnize that your attacks are pointless, I fear.
Shortsighted, blinded by your own might,
You cannot comprehend the...
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