200 F.Y.
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Waking up sore and groggy was the last thing on my bucket list as I forced my eyes to open for another day of this accursed life. I felt like absolute shit, and my body ached in places that I never thought even existed. Seriously, it almost felt like even my eyelids were tired with how much I'd been working.
"On your feet, Dirt Eater."
My ears rang at the commanding tone of the Dezimal in front of me. That was the sound of the alarm, Rouge. Best get moving...
My knees threatened to collapse from under me as I struggled to get up from my piss-poor accommodations. I haven't got a clue as to where I was, how I got here, or even why the fvck I was being kept alive for this long in the first place. This was torture, most likely; a penance for all of the shit that I ever did to these fvcks.
Not that I regretted them. I made sure that they brought me in kicking and screaming with what few weapons I could improvise for myself.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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