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Revolutionary Gathering of Friends

**Title:** **The Revolt of the Fates** **Attractive Description:** In the tumultuous world of Weckoplay, two revolutionaries emerge from the shadows to challenge elite oppression. Frothy, an 18-year-old with a murderous look and a katana in hand, fights tirelessly to overturn the educational system that marginalizes failures and loners. Dressed in his iconic black and red hoodie, he is a symbol of resistance, determined to bring justice to those who have been forgotten. At the same time, Rumar, an heir to the powerful Heavenly Beast clan of Hell, emerges with his own vision of revolution. With the power to trap bullies in the hell of his heavenly beast, he quickly becomes a feared and respected figure. When the territories' leaders attempt to co-opt him for their own ends, Rumar demonstrates his unmatched strength, subduing them and consolidating his rule. Their fates become intertwined in an explosive confrontation.

Cineware · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
423 Chs

5

When it's time to kill, most werewolves favor the crinos war-form: a nine foot tall walking wolf armed with huge claws and ripping teeth. But especially against a foe like this one, with a horse's speed and the threat of that long-range assault rifle, you want speed as much as you want killing power.

And since you're currently a quarter-ton prehistoric wolf with jaws the size of a cave bear's, you have plenty of killing power. You creep across the frozen field, scent the air, careful not to draw the Bane's attention where it could pick you off at range or charge you in open terrain. You've never faced a cavalry charge before—never really thought that might be a problem, actually—but that lance looks dangerous.

The rider hesitates, shifts nervously…then wheels around and hurls the lance.

He's too slow. You dodge the flying lance and charge. The Bane shows its cowardice then, fleeing into the woods between two huge pines. But you follow, leaping over fallen logs, smashing through saplings. Eyes narrowed against the cloud of flies, you feel your prey's terror as the horse gallops through the icy woods and the rider fumbles for the safety of his assault rifle, but you don't slow down even as your prey pulls out ahead. Confident that he has enough distance to make a shot, the rider wheels, aims his rifle…and doesn't have time to pull the trigger.

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