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CONSCRIPT 1: You’ve seen it out there. The Bleach. The raiders. Xundítriggar promises safety. A new world.

SPONDULE: (charging towards the door) Who cares about any of that. You are locked in a jail.

CONSCRIPT 1: (shouting towards the door-- their companions glare towards Spondule) ACOLYTES! He means to escape, acolytes!

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