Sample V-02: The Astral Pilgrimage
The music of the spheres was not a sound, but a shimmer of gold and violet that danced across the edges of Evan's consciousness. It was 1924, or so the chronometers in the Crystal Spires claimed. In the heart of New York, the skyscrapers had grown into translucent needles of quartz, reaching upward not to touch the clouds, but to anchor the collective soul of humanity. The Great Migration was...
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