In the valley, the rain is falling And the gem inlaid into my syckle shines as the blade vibrates On the way to my destiny I march listening the funeral melody of the drops that echo on our armours Guided by my nature, warriors from the high continent, former enemies, now fight by my side. The caln of Dirac, now consolidated, claims for its triumph. When the battle comes to an end, the rain starts falling...
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