Ruin and Resonance
The city of Orelia was a skeletal thing, a collection of bombed-out libraries and scorched plazas that smelled of ozone and old ash. The war had ended three years ago, leaving behind a population of ghosts who walked through the ruins of their own lives, searching for things that could never be replaced. I lived in the remains of the National Archives, sleeping on a bed of salvaged manuscripts....
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