[With little trust, but even fewer choices, she goes in, wary of the inside environment. Nothing she sees catches her attention, dismissing most of the equipment as fitting more for museums than for battlefields.
In a corner, there is a black and red suit of armor. She bites her lip, staring at three punctures in the chest plate. And at its' feet, the shattered helmet.
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In a corner, there is a black and red suit of armor. She bites her lip, staring at three punctures in the chest plate. And at its' feet, the shattered helmet.
And a teddy bear.]
That's my armor.