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Post by The Enigma on Jun 2, 2006 17:40:09 GMT -5
"Sweet fate be merciful..." A shadowed figure hunched over a computer terminal infront of a large bank of display panels. A strand of dark hair fell across his eye, illuminated only by the glow of the screens.
He sat frozen, an expression of disbelief etched on his face. "They wouldn't dare..." he whispered to himself. He talked to himself alot, there was no one else. Most of the people he had contact with weren't good for much intelligent conversation.
"I've sat by through wars and genocide once, but this..." He would have to do something about. Calling up a program he kept on hand, the shadowed figure established an untraceable link to the message centers of the Cortex. He paused a moment to think. He would have to craft his message with delicate precision, lest it would only serve as a tip-off that he knew what was being planned. It would have to be subtle, attracting the type of people who were both willing and cabaple of carrying out what he had in mind.
He composed the message and sent it, took a deep breath, and got up from his seat, disapearing into the shadows. Whoever understands the message will be comming.
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