This brings me to my next point. But pare to the next
But more than the anger is the fear acpanied by the certainty of the future.
So Aria stopped thinking about it.
But before he could finish his conversation, he started coughing.
At first he thought it was just cold.
But what he vomited was not what he expected, but sweet blood.
This is an example of further body shaming.
Human blood is not sweet, it just smells.
Alya sighed when she saw the blood on her hands.
Almost left, right, pig.
However, Pochi doesn't answer, and Aria forgets that she and Pochi are one.
This was the last time he read the story.
Aria wrote all of the above.
He then chanted a mantra and summoned a ball of fire that engulfed the novel.
Aria doesn't want to read this story alone.
No book should be written about the future.
Aria was very happy.
But that's not all.
Apart from this story, many other things came to mind.
Aria knows the author of this story, but she also knows that this is not the whole story for the author.
This story is written for entertainment purposes only.
Aria didn't know how she knew that.
But Aria knew it was true.
This is not a magical prophecy or a divine revelation, but a tale of the unknown.
Alia tried to convince herself that it was nonsense.
However, he himself did not agree.
He still thought it was one of those stories written by the gods of pleasure.
Should it be avoided?
Aria asked.
No, there is no need to deny it. Don't you know that it existed from the beginning?
A world named Owen.
Aria ignored these strange things again.
He took some notes.
Not memorable.
This story is a story inside the human heart.
But Aria remembered it.
God knows what happened.
Even more surprising, but for me?
The text uploaded by Alia consists of three short stories.
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