The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-19 05:13:55 -

The smoke tasted of copper and old ash, a metallic tang that coated the back of your throat before you could even draw a full breath. You stood in the center of the square, your uniform torn at the sleeve, the fabric stiff with dried blood that was not entirely yours. Around you, the air shimmered, not with heat, but with a thick, visible viscosity. It was the kind of fog that did not drift but...

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