The Faded Root
The dream always began with the hum, a low frequency vibration that seemed to rise not from the air but from the marrow of the earth itself, a geological thrumming that resonated in the teeth and the base of the skull before any image coalesced, and in this dream the world was not the gray, rain-slicked pavement of Millhaven but a vast, sterile laboratory where the walls were made of...
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