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The Battle Ground

Dawn broke over the battle field slowly but surely. To the observer, it seemed the sun was hesitant to rise and reveal the carnage at the foot of the hill. It gradually revealed the scores of dead and dying littering the field below. Large portions of the normally green grass were now a deep crimson red as the blood oozed its way across the land. The trees which ones stood proudly now lay in shards, truly on this morning death was all around.

At the peak of the hill, a lonely weeping willow tree now stood swaying in the light morning breeze. It seemed apt somehow that the only tree left standing was the weeping willow, spared only to mourn the devastation below.

It had been many hours since the cries of the injured had subsided, now small wimpers could be heard from the few remaining who now grasped for every breath, wondering if it was to be the last they took.

As they lay in the remains of their friends and themselves, the recovery team arrived, ready to deliver those still alive to the testing train.

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