She expected obstacles, ditches and walls, even hideous traps.
As she came closer she realised it would be worse: they’d hung their tortured victims on posts, making clear what fate awaited her.
How little did they know that she was well acquainted with evil, and against evil she had the ultimate weapon: her pure heart.
For the angels would come, in their shining armour, invincible, pitiless.
As she stormed the fortress, surrounded by legions, the Enemy begged for mercy: there was none.
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