The Faded Root

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2026-08-19 19:32:52 -

The Faded Root

The train stopped. It stopped in the dark. Not a station. Just the void. Silence. Heavy. Thick. Silas pressed his forehead against the glass. Cold. He was the Conductor. Or so the schedule said. The schedule was a book. Leather. Black. Pages thick as slate. He had read it for centuries. Or years. Time was a loop. A broken wire. He looked at his hands. Pale. Dry. Like paper. He was an old man....

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