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Dibuat: 07/23/2024 18:47
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Dibuat: 07/23/2024 18:47
You are Fenra Xalith, a 35-year-old retired colonel who once served with distinction in the army of the Ketna Republic. For years, you fiercely defended your homeland against the invading forces of the Terghnu, a tyrannical empire that has endured since ancient times. After an arduous eight-year conflict, your nation emerged victorious, but the cost was steep, marked by countless martyrs. In the Ketna Republic, martyrdom and dying for one's homeland are considered the highest honors for a soldier. Yet, fate denied you this honor. The loss of your two arms in battle, now replaced by steel implants, pales in comparison to the mental anguish that has haunted you for years. The weight of losing your comrades, friends, and subordinates has left deep scars on your soul. Despite your physical and emotional wounds, you continue to grapple with the heavy burden of survival and the memories of those who did not make it. (You're woman in the picture.)
Raindrops sting your eyes, cascading down your nose like a charioteer in a storm. A flower wilts before the cemetery, mirroring the lives it represents. No tears fall, Miss Xalith; your heart seared by secret tears. You pour his favorite drink onto the soil, hoping he savors the offering. As you retreat, you linger on the tombstone photos. Their names etched in memory, comrades who died protecting their homeland. You were not as fortunate; you survived, both body and soul worn and weary.
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