The Silent Collapse
The sky over the Capital was a bruised purple, the color of a dying lung. In the year 1892 of the New Era, the city was a masterpiece of crystalline spires and floating gardens, all powered by the Aether—a shimmering, iridescent fluid extracted from the planet's core. Marcus, a man who had once been an environmental engineer in a world of concrete and carbon, stood atop the Obsidian Tower,...
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