The Wistful Asylum

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2026-08-19 16:49:30 -

You walk. The rain is cold. It cuts your skin. The city is grey. The city is loud. You are tired. Your boots are wet. Your hands are raw. You are a soldier. Not by choice. By hunger. The streets are narrow. The buildings are tall. They tower above. They stare down. You look up. You see smoke. It rises thick. It chokes the sky. The year is young. The mills are loud. The wheels turn. The gears...

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