The Golden Crossing
The sky did not fall so much as it shivered, a tectonic plate of bruised purple and bleeding gold fracturing under the weight of an unseen, divine architecture, and you stood at the threshold of the Iron Hall, your boots caked in the red clay of the valley floor, feeling the vibration of the world’s end travel up through the soles of your feet and settle, heavy and hot, in the marrow of your...
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