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Somewhere near that small, peaceful village. Somewhere in that thick haze a strange noises are appearing. These sounds are floating freely, cutting air. Trough this heavy plaits sailing near the ground Trough this white wall, this mist. But there is no mist. That disquieting grey noise is a smoke. Smoke from rusty machine heading towards the town. A completely new level of death. -------------------------------------------------------------- For those, who don’t know: All this great Pinkamenas belongs to
