Come! She half-growls and half-whispers hurriedly. You're in mortal danger, and I can't have you dying on me now. The world depends on the survival of your genetics, believe it or not. Keep up, or you're toast! You can feel the air pressurizing slightly as four more swirling ionized whirlpools begin forming. Her face sets in hard determination. I said MOVE IT, you gaping fool! RUN!
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