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Panel #1
A young, cheery nation stands in his bedroom. The day is completely insignificant, but he still stands there. Nothing is stopping him. He looks at you with dead eyes, but you wouldn't think that he is secretly reciting his battle plans in his head. Wait, what? This is completely off topic. Why are we going on about how this innocent, sweet, precious, delicate, nation is internally dead? That isn't even true. The internally dead part, that is. He really is all the other things.
Oh, shut the fuck up and get to the next page. What is this sweet flower's name?