#331855 - Twisted and awkward he was thrown back through the hole and slid across the street towards me; his clothes, already ripped and torn from our battle with the Nephilim we’d found here, shredded from the left side of his body with the force of his slide. “I guess we all do what we think is right,” Samael said to her. Samael had just kicked the last Nephilim through a window, the force of the blow tearing its arms off as he’d held it by the wrists.
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