The Last Altar of Love
The neon lights of New York-Prime didn't just illuminate the city; they bled into the sky, a permanent, electric bruise. In the year 2142, the city was a gilded cage, a masterpiece of art deco skyscrapers and floating gardens, all powered by the dying embers of a collapsing multiverse. The citizens danced in the jazz clubs of the Upper Stratosphere, drinking synthetic champagne and pretending...
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