The Golden Myth
The sky did not break open; it peeled away like wet parchment, revealing the churning, violet void that had always hung beneath the firmament of their world. In the town of Oakhaven, a place that existed in the shadow of a cliff face carved with runes older than memory, the cataclysm began not with fire, but with a silence so profound it pressed against the eardrums like the depth of the ocean....
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