The Wistful Campus

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2026-08-18 11:19:52 -

The spoon shatters in your hand. Not with a bang. A whisper. A cold, wet crack, like ice breaking on a frozen lake. You are holding it in the mess hall of the Ninth Division, but the mess hall is not where it should be. The walls are made of grey stone that breathes. The air smells of wet wool and old blood. You are wearing your uniform, the olive drab canvas stiff with sweat. Your name is...

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