PATHFINDER

You were a seed, planted. You came as purity from the womb, untouched by the diseased hands of the human race. Though you don’t remember, with your arrival came your war cry, echoing triumphantly, rattling your skull. When you opened your eyes for the first time, the blurred light was frightening and confusing, so you cried some more. What else could you have done? After all, you were an infant once—helpless and dependent, but much has changed.

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