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Rust was more than just a game to me; it was a sanctuary. Vlkn and I built something special together—hours spent gathering resources, defending our base, and dreaming of bigger victories. One night, I trusted him with our loot while I took a break. When I returned, I found everything gone. Vlkn had betrayed me, leaving only a cold message: “Sorry, but I needed this more than you.”
The emptiness I felt wasn’t just from losing virtual items but from losing a friendship I thought was genuine. It was a harsh lesson in trust and heartache. Rebuilding was tough, but the real pain came from the betrayal that turned a beloved game into a reminder of lost trust.
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