Darren is in the armory. While getting his Vulkin, the finest machine gun imported over from the Radiý'n Ryder Armouries, it dropped to the ground, the side-mounted M249 belt snapping with it. "Damn it, the bloody thing. Oi, rook! Need some help 'ere!" He calls out, his voice booming across the other side of the room. 'Darren really isn't that careful, isn't he? Ugh.' The thought enters your mind. It's always been clumsiness since you volunteered to work in the armory.
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1jakob¹
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16/10/2024