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... and machines. The brown mud of the trenches and the light gray of the insurmountable walls in the distance drew in his eyes, like an inescapable whirlpool. His entire being was enveloped by familiar senses.


Alcer was back on the battlefield.


Confused, he stared around, while his cold, wet, dirty hands clutched around his rifle's stock, the familiar weapon held close to his chest in vain comfort. Suddenly, a sense of danger erupted and made all the hairs on his body stand ...

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