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Shogun 2: Fall of the Samurai

It was almost poetic.

My clan, the last supporting the Shogunate, was being destroyed by the invasion of new cultural ways we fought so hard to resist. Overlooking the courtyard I did not feel sad but proud that we had survived as far as we did.

But then grief did overtake me…would Japan, or the world, ever see men like us again? Would we be totally snuffed out? It just couldn’t be true. I could not accept that this was the final battle of my kind. I hated to think that we would disappear forever. I could not accept it.

Then…from what must have been miles away…great deep-sounding, booming shots, like a volcano erupting, were fired at my keep from the great iron ships in the harbor, destroying one of the towers and killing dozens of my samurai in just one salvo. I jumped from the wall, landing in the high grass and ran uphill away from the inferno my fortress had become.

I never looked back.

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