The Last Tyrant
The sky over the Wastes was the color of a bruised plum, heavy with the ash of a world that had forgotten the meaning of green. Marcus lived in the ruins of a cathedral, a skeletal structure of blackened stone that served as the throne of the laird of the Dust. He had not always been a monster. Once, he was a boy with a small, trembling hand and a mother whose breath sounded like dry leaves...
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