The Faded Ruin
The sky did not fall; it cracked. It split open above the city like a dry riverbed, revealing a void that was not black, but a deep, bruised purple, pulsing with a light that had no source. The sound was not an explosion, but a shriek, a high-pitched wail that drilled into the teeth and settled in the marrow. Ten-year-old Elias stood on the cobblestones of the Market Square, his small hands...
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