The Distant Summer

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2026-08-20 00:15:42 -

The air in the bunker tasted of wet concrete and old rust. It was a heavy, metallic scent that coated the back of the throat, a constant reminder that the world above had ceased to exist. Elara sat on a folded cot, her legs crossed, watching a single housefly buzz against the mesh screen of the air vent. The fly was frantic, a tiny speck of chaotic energy in the sterile, gray silence. It bumped...

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