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Chapter 2 – The Ones Who Still Talk
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... he black haze that smothered the sky. In a world where light had died with the Great One, morning was just darkness with slightly better visibility. Bright Morgan stood in line with a hundred others, boots sinking into the damp ground of the induction yard. His name felt like a cosmic joke, a cruel prophecy someone had slapped on a child born into eternal night.
The regiment’s recruiters didn’t bother with speeches or banners. They paced along the rows like butchers at a livestock auctio ...
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