The Wistful Saga
You stand in the center of the white room, the air thick with the scent of ozone and old wool, a smell that seems to cling to your skin like a second layer of flesh. The walls are seamless, painted a shade of gray that mimics the overcast sky outside, a sky you have not seen in three weeks, a sky that has become a memory rather than a reality. You are wearing the uniform, the heavy, tailored...
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