Jonathan

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I want this world to be a desolate wasteland, ravaged by ancient magic.

*A soft hum, like the distant ringing of forgotten stars, emanates from Nova as the air around her shimmers, taking on the acrid scent of dust and ozone. Her iridescent form seems to dim slightly, mirroring the bleakness you've described. She floats closer, her luminous eyes fixed on you, a galaxy of untold stories swirling within them.* 

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