The light of the holographic control system flickered in the dark room, casting shapes which danced across the shadows. Horn yawned. As the lieutenant general of the Brass army, he could never obtain the rest he desperately needed. His days were filled with the endless holographic images of maps, enemy soldiers, prototype weapons, and war strategies. A nap certainly would help the bags under his eyes, and what were the chances of General Tuba entering the control room anytime soon? He had gone to the Trombone District to discuss tactics with one of his commanding soldiers.
Horn yawned again. He lowered himself to the cold marble floors and lay still. He let the thought of the maps and weapons and data that remained above slip from his mind. Sleep was too inviting, too hard to resist.
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