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The Mean (Just Another Word For Average?) Never did a soldier march more happily to his death than did I towards you. But of all the bodies torn and twisted by desire and betrayal, mine is the least in this legion of despair. Countless corpses lay dead, forgotten in this battle which remembers no beginning and hopes only for an end. All the while the mean justifies only itself, dithering and fiddling as the capital of the Empire burns to the ground.
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