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... in savage, unrelenting torrents, each drop hammering the glass like a gunshot, turning the night beyond into a smeared, desolate blur. The storm's fury echoed the jagged, festering wound that had been gnawing at his chest for weeks—a quiet rot he'd buried under denial until it clawed its way free tonight. His cramped room, once a sanctuary of code and solitude, was a prison now, the walls closing in, the air heavy with damp rot and the sour stink of his own sweat.

A desk lamp flickered, ...

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