The Distant Joke
The sky above the Ironpeak did not merely break; it shattered like a pane of glass under a hammer blow, raining down shards of obsidian and starlight that burned with the cold fire of a dying sun. You stood at the edge of the precipice, your armor humming with the residual voltage of the spell you had just cast, the air thick with the smell of ozone and crushed lavender. Below, the valley of...
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