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No velvet carpets. No ceremony. Just concrete walls, iron grates, and the constant thrum of drills and screaming. Pablo stood in formation beneath the blistering sun of Moonbase Helix, the air thin, the gravity heavy, sweat burning down his spine as if the planet wanted him gone.
"Name?" the drill officer barked.
"Pablo," he said, stopping himself from finishing with El'Vertigo. "Initiate-class. No sigil."
The officer smirked. "A noble who crawled here without a name. ...
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