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Someone stuck denying the uselessness of their grief.
It will be enough. It has to be enough. Maybe if something good can come of all those deaths, they'll be given meaning. They'll be granted peace.
Bullshit. Comrades and family rot in the ground, along with the rest of the festering Earth.]
You didn't let it happen. You were just.
Too weak. [His fingers curl at his sides - who is he talking about? He's lost track.]
Have you gotten any stronger, since then?