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... uiet, steady hum of the system interface. Soft blue glow on Jake's face, flickering shadows across the shelves, the trophies, the still-wrapped scouting reports stacked like unread warnings beside the door. His blazer was still on, creased from a long day, but unbuttoned now. His sleeves rolled to the forearm, exposing the watch he hadn't checked in an hour.
Across the desk, the tactical sim loaded frame by frame—Partizan's shape morphing and twisting like a living thing. Eleven white do ...
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