The Faded Ruin
You wake with the taste of copper on your tongue. It is thick and old, a metallic tang that coats the roof of your mouth and refuses to wash away. You are in the dormitory. The air is stale, recycled, smelling of damp wool and the faint, sweet rot of the nutrient paste they serve. You sit up. Your body aches, a deep, structural pain in the joints, as if the bones have been replaced with lead....
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