Title: The Crystal Agony
The garden was not made of earth and petal, but of light and geometry. Floating islands of iridescent quartz drifted through a sea of pale gold mist, and the air tasted of ozone and ancient hymns. I was a celestial being, or perhaps a memory of one, bound to a cross of singing crystal. The nails were not iron, but needles of pure, focused light. They didn't just pierce my flesh; they pierced my...
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