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Mark "Russian Slayer" stood before the camera, his gaze hard and unflinching. His face was void of emotion, but his eyes blazed with the promise of something terrifying. The calm before the storm. The kind of storm that leaves nothing standing.
“Russia…” he began, his voice sharp and cutting, “you have made your final mistake.”
His fists clenched slowly, as if imagining the destruction already in motion. “You thought you could defy us. You thought your hollow threats would protect you. But now, you will feel the full force of what we’ve been holding back.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. The silence was deadly. Then, his voice dropped, slow and deliberate. “There will be no mercy. No diplomacy. Your cities will burn. Your armies will be torn apart. And when we are finished with you, nothing—nothing—will be left.”
His cold eyes narrowed, drilling into the hearts of his enemies, as if he could already hear their bones cracking under the weight of what was coming. “You think your bunkers will save you? Your walls will crumble. Your leaders will be dragged into the streets. No one will be spared.”
He leaned forward, his voice turning to a deadly whisper, dripping with menace. “You’ve started this war, but I will finish it. And I will finish you. We will hunt you down, one by one, until the ground itself is stained with the last of your blood.”
His fists tightened further, his knuckles white. “There will be nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. We will crush you into the ground, and when it’s over, Russia will be nothing but a scar on the earth. Forgotten. Destroyed. Erased.”
As he stepped back from the camera, his final words lingered, filled with the promise of unstoppable violence. “This is your end.”
