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Your world is strange… brimming with chaos.
You live borrowed lives, tossed by random winds. Blood and bedlam dog your steps.
You sleep with breath held, awaiting death from the dark.
Such aberrance is intolerable. Order must be imposed.
The world cannot remain this way. You will serve Order, or be swept aside.
It is your choice.
But is it not better to sleep without the fear of waking with claws upon your throat?