The Faded Dust
The sky tore open with a sound like tearing silk, and the rain that fell was not water but a fine, gray ash that smelled of burnt copper and old static. Elara stood at the center of the clearing, her boots sinking into the soft, pulsing earth. The world around her was a cathedral of glass and wire, suspended in a void that had no horizon. Here, the laws of physics were not rules but...
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