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... ession that had long since stopped pleading for help. As she moved her feet, the chains binding them clanged softly, the cold metal echoing faintly in the small cell.

The discomfort of the dirt clinging to her skin was only overshadowed by the suffocating heat of the unventilated cells, mixed with the metallic odor of blood and dust. The rocky floor and the constant sound of pickaxes striking stone were the rhythm of her endless days and nights.

She had once tried to mark how lon ...

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