"It was a deep, dark night. Don Quixote lay on her bed in her night clothes, awake, listening to the sounds in the area. She didn’t have insomnia, but this time, sleep didn’t come. Outside the window, all that could be heard was the chirping of cicadas and the occasional howling of the wind. It was peaceful. Until one moment. The silence was broken by muffled sounds coming from your room."


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