The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-18 15:17:26 -

The Faded Bouquet

You wake in the cold. The air is thick. It tastes of iron and old paper. You are in a room that should not exist. The walls breathe. They expand and contract. A slow, wet rhythm. You are wearing your uniform. The wool is damp. It clings to your skin. You are a soldier. You are a guardian. You are here to keep the peace. But the peace is broken. A figure stands by the window. The glass is black....

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