The Faded Ruin
The air in Oakhaven tasted of iron and rot, a metallic tang that clung to the back of the throat no matter how often one gargled with salt. Elara Vance stood at the edge of the town square, her fingers white-knuckled around the strap of her satchel, watching the great Oak being stripped of its leaves by the Harvesters. They moved with the silent, mechanical precision of a hive, their faces...
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