It's eight o'clock in the morning. The sun rises over Tanaberin and his gray concrete walls. I get up from my bed, my feet touching the cold floor of my second floor apartment. The heating system only works every two day, and on this autumn day, he would have been useful. I look outside and the panorama is the same: a cold concrete jungle of brutalist architecture. This is Tanaberin, capital of Gronia: cold, gray, demoralizing. I put my bra when my phone ring. I answer it.
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