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As bullets slam into the rock, you hop down a level and crouch next to Zhu, taking cover behind the platform.

"Get round the other side of the pedestal!" shouts Zhu. "They'll try to flank us! Keep them back!"

As Zhu keeps up a continuous hail of bullets around the left side of the pedestal, you head to the right, peek over the top of the platform, and assess your options.

Three bullets slam into the commander's chest, and he falls to the ground. But the fall of their leader does not stall the soldiers' assault; they keep coming, pushing closer and closer around the sides of the chamber. Your bullets are only delaying them.

More and more soldiers are streaming into the chamber now. The world around you is a frenzied blaze of gunshots, ricochets, and flying rock shards where the bullets hit the stone.

There are too many of them. They are going to overwhelm you.

And then you notice something—a strident, angry screaming emanating from your right coat pocket. The pocket into which you dropped the Stone of Shambala when the soldiers came in. The stone is vibrating, furious and intense.

And you remember the story. The stone is a thorn as well as a rose. It doesn't just give life; it can take life away.

You reach into your pocket and remove the Stone of Shambala. It is changed utterly, no longer radiating soothing green light; it has gone violent red. Light and energy courses across its surface and crackles and spills through your fingers as you hold it aloft.

And then the world explodes.

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