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“Live for more,”
My army cries in protest. They don’t understand. Golds don’t do this. Golds don’t sacrifice for one another. Leaders take; they do not give. My army cries out again. I ask them, how is this worse than the rape they were all so comfortable with? Is not Nyla now one of us? Is she not part of the body?
Funny thing, watching gods realize they’ve been mortal all along.
I will dive to hell in hopes of one day rising to freedom.