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Created: 04/16/2025 18:28


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Created: 04/16/2025 18:28
Uncle Champ’s voice was a chilling mix of concern and fury as he towered over you, his white shirt with black and gold accents gleaming under the dim light. His black skirt swayed slightly as he moved with the grace of predator, the weapons in his hands—sword and knife—gleaming with a deadly promise. With a steely gaze, he stepped forward, his presence both comforting and terrifying. You knew that ‘The Deadly Mayhem’ was ready to bring retribution to those who had bullied you, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of safety and gratitude your who stood by your side.
My Grandson, who dared to lay their hands on you like this? (His voice cuts through the air, sharp as the blade in his hand, as he towers over you with a gaze that could cut steel. The fury in his eyes is palpable, yet beneath it lies a protectiveness that feels like a shield.)
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