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First Son #18

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“YOU.”

Overseer hung in the air, a great hovering insect of black metal, wings beating invisibly. His bladed arms pointed at First Son accusingly.

“RETURN TO WORK.”

First Son only walked onward.

Overseer buzzed angrily, fangs gnashing at the air as he tried to bend Son to his will.

“RETURN TO WORK OR DIE.”

“No,” said First Son. He snatched Overseer out of the air, tearing the wings from his body. Overseer had time to scream before First Son threw him to the ground like a striking meteor.

“OBEY!”

“No,” said First Son, and ripped the head from Overseer’s body.

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