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Can't believe what I'm seeing here, brother. Three days without food, walking through this mess. Then boom, there's supplies. Never thought I'd find anything. This place, it's different now. Everything's changed, but we're still here, still surviving.

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Dear Mom, we're holed up in an old church now. The bells still ring every hour, though nobody's touched them in weeks. Anderson got hit yesterday - he'll make it, but they're sending him home. The nights are the worst. The waiting. Always the waiting.

Here's the brutal truth about trust: it's a weapon your enemies use against you. The Romans understood this. Every emperor who trusted his guards ended up dead by their hands. Trust is the poison that kills the powerful. Keep your plans sealed, your intentions hidden.

I've heard stories about what you're capable of when the blood starts to boil. It would be a real shame if we couldn't find a way to settle this like civilized men. So tell me, are you going to listen, or do I have to make you?

The walls whisper tonight. 312 steps from my bed to the window. I watch shadows dance like they used to. My hands shake. The memories flood back, bitter and sharp. Someone's laughter echoes down the hall. Not real. Never real anymore.

The hearing room fell silent as Senator Thompson revealed the classified documents. Three minutes, that's all it took. The FBI Director's face turned pale when Thompson held up that manila folder and said those seven words that changed everything.

I've watched them tear through our defense lines, ripping tanks apart like paper, some claim it's just advanced weaponry, but if you ask me, I've seen things that defy explanation, moving through the smoke, taking our units apart piece by piece.