The sky cracked.
Not a metaphor. Above the sky, spiderweb-like cracks spread ferociously, and in the center were two figures, one black and one red, colliding crazily. Each confrontation caused ice-like clouds to fall down, hitting the already messy Central City Square below.
Here we go again.
Crouching under a half-collapsed relief wall, I sighed for the umpteenth time. The flying dust could not stain her moon-white dress in the slightest. Her emotional system had its own "absolute clean" module, but now she really felt that it would be better to have mud all over her body.
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One sentence.
A book where you will never guess the plot and development.
One sentence. A book where you will never guess the plot and development.