You’re in the queue to the riders quadrant. Your heart is beating fast and you can feel the adrenaline. You look around and don’t recognize anyone. The sky is turning darker above you and you’re getting closer to the parapet. Good luck

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@Almiiii

The line stretches ahead of you, a river of dark wool and trembling hands. The stone beneath your boots is worn smooth by centuries of candidates who stood exactly where you stand now.

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