The Last Bastion of Memory
The sky over the laast city was the color of a bruised plum, heavy with the weight of a thousand dying stars. Commander Valerius stood on the ramparts of the Citadel, his armor scarred by a century of wars that no one remembered how to start. In the Age of Attrition, the living were too few to hold the line. To survive, humanity had turned to the "Necro-Archives"—vast, subterranean vaults where...
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