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Heavy steel chains bound to his wrists, the stench of blood mingling with that of medicine, the intolerable beats of several lying hearts surrounding him and the colour white. That was the world Beomgyu had always known, well, ever since he could remember. He didn't like it. He couldn't say he disliked it either, because he simply didn't know what he was supposed to like. If he didn't know the world outside, how could he dream of it? What could he dream of it?
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txt stuff because i'm a sucker for beomgyu