The Faded Ruin
You walk through the grey, breathing fog of the city, where the air tastes of wet stone and the metallic tang of old blood that has seeped into the very mortar of the walls, and you feel the weight of your armor, not as a burden of iron, but as a second skin that has grown into your flesh, tight and unyielding, pressing against the ribs of your body as if trying to crush the heart that beats...
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