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... unnaturally so, almost spongy. The meat sat in thick, brown sauce, its scent foreign, heavy with spices he couldn't name. Beside it, pale-yellow mush glistened under the cold light of the hall. He prodded it with his spoon, watching it jiggle. Food wasn't supposed to jiggle.

The other recruits around him were already eating, shoveling the strange meal into their mouths like they hadn't seen food in years. Maybe they hadn't. Some of them were from the worst parts of Farlstone—street rats ...

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