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The Diary of Unit CRASA.

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May 2nd, 2458: Mouse carcass in maintenance this morning, toolbox wound on burst stomach. This station is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. The hallways are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their ERP and murder will foam up about their waists and all the traitors and assistants will look up and shout "Save us!"... and I'll whisper "woe."

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