NATIONS OF BLOOD (PART 2 OF DAUGHTER OF PHOENIX) The sound ricocheted in my ear drums, amplifying everything around me and at the same time drowning everything out. An unyielding force slammed my arm backwards. Pain shot throughout, encompassing every hair, every muscle, every part of me. But physical pain could not, would not compare to the pain I was facing mentally or the pain I knew I would be facing. Isaiah, I could see the bullet pierce through him, I could see the scarlet red ooze out begging for release, I could see his body give up and slump over. But I could see nothing. Hot tears streaked down my cheeks, giving some form of warmth, my eyes sealed shut. I had to open them, I had to. Even if he could not see me, even if he was in some sort of sim, I had to be the last person to see him. The heaviness in between my eyes lifted. Isaiah sat in front of me, pristine, as pristine as he could be. But no scarlet, crimson, red
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