The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-18 03:42:09 -

The road broke. That was the first sign. Not a crack, but a severance. The earth split like a dry riverbed in a drought that had lasted a century. I stood at the edge of the chasm, my boots sinking into the dust that smelled of iron and old blood. The sky above was the color of a bruise, purple and swollen, hanging low over the plains. There was no wind. The air was thick, heavy with a silence...

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