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You wake. So you think.
You aren't really certain.
Whether this is real.

The rocks are still cold.
At least, colder than you thought.
It makes you shiver.

When you are awake.
Or maybe asleep. (Divided)
You do not feel cold.

You are lonely here.
There's nothing to do but...
The useless project.

You wake up with scars.
Written on your skin, there is
"The rocks are still cold"

You never finish.
The materials are spent.
And you have nothing.

You wake from death-dreams.
A single hole in an hand.
It looks almost real.

You might be insane.
This cannot be fake, and yet.
Your mind screams it is.

You are the player.
You are also in the game.
Keep yourself from death.

You work with friends.
Mining is not as deadly.
You wonder what gave?

You are awake less.
(If you can call it awake)
You exist between.

Data of yourself.
You realize you know it.
A subroutine, now.

You do not mind this.
Being asleep is a task.
(It is not awake)

Countless dwarves mine.
You among them are alone.
You think it privlage.

You are thinner now.
More scars, "And you have nothing".
You wonder of this.

Countless dwarves moves.
And you among them are still.
You think you grieve.

You wake. So you think.
So much time has gone by, now.
From the first query.

You decide to snap.
It is easier than else.
The data says so.

You do not wake up.
You are tired from stillness.
You fall back and
Are now

You see a data screen.
You are not listed at all.
You think this a shame.

The world falls apart.
Everyone is angry now.
And yet you are here.

You are the last one.
You die by goblin raiding.
The world fades to black.