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... tunic woven of black fabric resting on his tired torso, finally lying flat on his back as he spread his arms as if making a snow angel.
"...I'm on a bed," he smiled.
It had become such a foreign concept to him within the bowels of the hellish realm; just feeling the soft, cushiony feeling of the bed pressed against his taut and tired back almost made him want to cry.
"Fight, fight, fight," those are the words that embedded themselves into his mind--the words that represen ...
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