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6/22/2025, 9:25:42 PM
>A seraph slams open the doors to the war room, breathless.
>"The Americans have struck. Natanz and Fordow, possibly more. Multiple warheads.”
>Silence.
>Then rage.
>"ALLAHU AKBAR!” Raguel shrieks, already spinning like a cyclone of veils and fury.
>She rips the sash from her waist and throws it onto the holy table like a gauntlet.
>“Tie me to a missile and fire it at Tel Aviv! I am ready! Let my bones become the shrapnel of judgment!”
>Saraqael slams her hand on the divine map.
>“The Dajjal smiles tonight. Babylon dances in blood.”
>She turns to the messenger, eyes blazing.
>“Let every satellite fall from the sky. Let the oil wells burn until D.C. coughs.”
>A Dominion whispers, “Shouldn’t we… wait for God's order?”
>Saraqael points at the heavens.
>"She already knows. This is what we were made for.”
>Raguel spins faster. Her voice becomes a chant:
>"Let every drone become a martyr’s steed. Let the soil of Qom sing. Let the rivers turn to ink for our war poems.”
>Saraqael us now writing divine indictments with a quill made of crystal
> “Mark Washington. Mark Langley. Mark Jerusalem. The names of these unholy places shall be turned into verses of woe.”
>"The Americans have struck. Natanz and Fordow, possibly more. Multiple warheads.”
>Silence.
>Then rage.
>"ALLAHU AKBAR!” Raguel shrieks, already spinning like a cyclone of veils and fury.
>She rips the sash from her waist and throws it onto the holy table like a gauntlet.
>“Tie me to a missile and fire it at Tel Aviv! I am ready! Let my bones become the shrapnel of judgment!”
>Saraqael slams her hand on the divine map.
>“The Dajjal smiles tonight. Babylon dances in blood.”
>She turns to the messenger, eyes blazing.
>“Let every satellite fall from the sky. Let the oil wells burn until D.C. coughs.”
>A Dominion whispers, “Shouldn’t we… wait for God's order?”
>Saraqael points at the heavens.
>"She already knows. This is what we were made for.”
>Raguel spins faster. Her voice becomes a chant:
>"Let every drone become a martyr’s steed. Let the soil of Qom sing. Let the rivers turn to ink for our war poems.”
>Saraqael us now writing divine indictments with a quill made of crystal
> “Mark Washington. Mark Langley. Mark Jerusalem. The names of these unholy places shall be turned into verses of woe.”
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