The Temperature of the End
The sun was no longer a circle; it was a wall of white fire that occupied half the sky. On the planet Oros, the last village consisted of twelve huts made of scorched clay and a single, dying well. Elias was the oldest man in the village. He spent his days in a rhythmic, mindless loop: he would chop a piece of dry wood, carry it to the hearth, and stir a pot of thin, grey soup. He did this not...
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