The Neural Weave (V-12)
The city of Oakhaven was no longer a city; it was a garden of flesh and fungus. A pale, bioluminescent mycelium had claimed the cobblestones and the cathedrals, weaving a shimmering, organic web that pulsed with a slow, rhythmic heartbeat. The air was thick with spores that tasted of copper and old memories, and the silence was absolute, save for the occasional, wet sigh of the breathing...
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