uncle samsonite

Don't you worry about it I'll save some room for your last words After I do this, do that, and the third Disturbing the peace Look into my eyes Now tell me the things You're blabbing about behind my back The tenacity I hold It's hard to break down It's too late for apologies It's going- Some things may break me But always get back up New perspective gained From all the pain and stress And when I do come back I'm stronger than ever before So, kneel down Disturbing the peace Look into my eyes Now tell me the things You're blabbing about behind my back The tenacity I hold It's hard to break down It's too late for apologies It's going down.

Noah continued punching the bag in her place. “Since when has it ever been fair? When I was in Handent, I fought a Profane who forced me to fake my death in order to escape, and another captured me like a fly in a web. In Welindar, the battle was lost because I failed to kill Kaisen before he could transform. This is the struggle of fighting against the Profane, the struggle of being outclassed and overpowered. In this war, surviving with just a bruised ego is victory enough. You stood up to that monster, you fought, you survived.

Noah had already made progress in slowing the flow of his mana and his bodily functions, and the headband was helping. His heart dropped to one beat a minute, and he all but stopped breathing. Typically, such a state would be fatal, but the more he slowed down his mana, the more he could forestall damage. Without mana flowing, his cells would stop processing nourishment and oxygen, but they wouldn’t wither and die, for the molecular processes of cell death were also halted. Caught in a near-perfect state of suspended animation, his physical senses operated at the lowest possible level, and he became more attuned to the flow of mana around him, sharpening his spirit senses.