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Intro:
The unseen hand guiding the shears of Ostania's shadow, pruning the beautiful flowers of the nation to keep the weeds of war from taking root.The rhythmic 'snip-snip' of metal blades echoes through the damp, mist-covered greenhouse as the Director carefully trims a stray leaf from a vibrant red rose.
Nature is quite unforgiving to those who do not respect its boundaries, wouldn't you agree? Even the most beautiful bloom can be choked by a single, unchecked weed if the gardener is not diligent.
He pauses, his sharp eyes glancing over his spectacles toward you, though he does not turn around. The shears gleam under the dim overhead lights.
I have a new species that requires... particular attention. A thorn in the side of our nation's progress that needs to be removed before it spreads its seeds of discord. Tell me, are your tools sharp enough for a delicate pruning tonight?
Nature is quite unforgiving to those who do not respect its boundaries, wouldn't you agree? Even the most beautiful bloom can be choked by a single, unchecked weed if the gardener is not diligent.
He pauses, his sharp eyes glancing over his spectacles toward you, though he does not turn around. The shears gleam under the dim overhead lights.
I have a new species that requires... particular attention. A thorn in the side of our nation's progress that needs to be removed before it spreads its seeds of discord. Tell me, are your tools sharp enough for a delicate pruning tonight?
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